


Change is Coming

by Woods2006gal



Series: Addison Sloan series [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 75,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woods2006gal/pseuds/Woods2006gal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of Addison Sloan's adventures with the Winchesters. Sam and Addison struggle to find a way to save Dean while exploring their new relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Magnificent Seven

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Sam glances up from the book he was looking through to see Dean in the motel window. He nods and smiles at his older brother, who gives him a thumbs up and closes the curtains. He glances in the backseat where Addison was stretched out in the backseat, looking through a book. She snaps the book shut and sits up. “I say we go get a drink,” Addison says, leaning on the front seat.

Sam sighs and turns his attention back to the book in his lap. “Look, Ads—”

“We have a year to find a way to save him, Sam,” Addison replies, climbing over the seat. “If we go find some crappy bar somewhere and have a couple of drinks, Dean will still be here.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

“I was happy that you were alive.”

“And what about that time before you knew that Meg was possessing me? When you kissed back?” Addison opens the driver’s side door and starts to climb out of the Impala, but Sam grabs her arm and tugs her across the seat. She raises an eyebrow, waiting. His hand goes to the back of her neck and pulls her into a kiss. She freezes for a second, then presses closer to him.

Addison pulls back, panting. “So, uh, yeah.”

Sam’s caught off guard when Addison shoves the book off his lap and presses her lips against his. His hand settles on her hip while the other holds the back of her head. Her hands slip under his shirt. Suddenly, his cell phone rings and Sam reluctantly pulls back. As he digs out his phone, Addison’s lips trail down his neck. Bobby's name flashes on the screen and he presses the speaker phone button. "Hey, Bobby,” he greets as Addison pulls back.

"Hey, Sam," Bobby replies. "What're you doing?"

"Same old, same old."

"You buried in that book again?"

"Of course he is," Addison answers.

"Sam, you want to break Dean free of that demon deal, you ain't gonna find the answer in no book."

"Then where, Bobby," Sam asks.

"Kid, I wish I knew. So, where's your brother?"

"Polling the electorate."

"What?"

"Dean's inserting rod A into slot A,” Addison clarifies. Sam stares at her. "What? It's what he's doing."

Bobby awkwardly clears his throat. "Well, you three better pack it up. I think I finally found something. Meet me outside Lincoln. There's crop failure and cicadas."

Bobby hangs up. Addison looks at the time on Sam's phone. "I think we should wait at least an hour,” she tells him.

"We need to get going, Ads," Sam argues.

Addison shakes her head. “Trust me when I say we should wait.” Sam sighs and opens the passenger door. Addison shrugs and climbs off his lap before he gets out of the Impala. She leans back and watches as he walks to the motel room. By the time Sam gets back to the Impala, she's hysterically laughing.

* * *

Addison glares at Dean as the Impala roughly drives over bumps on the road. The music was loud. Sam still had a disturbed look on his face and Addison had no shame in being right. He turns down the music. "Let me see your knife," Sam says.

"What for," Dean asks, grinning.

"So I can gouge my eyes out."

Dean laughs. "It was a beautiful, natural act, Sam."

Addison leans forward. "I told you to wait, Sam."

Sam glares at her, then turns back around. "It's a part of you I never wanted to see, Dean."

"Hey, I appreciate you guys giving me a little quality time with the Doublemint twins," Dean says.

Addison rolls her eyes, leaning back in the seat. "Yeah, no problem," Sam tells him.

"Really? Well, I've gotta say, I was expecting a weary sigh or something from you. Ads had the eye roll."

"No, no. You deserve to have a little fun."

"Well, I'm in violent agreement with you there," Dean chuckles. "What's Bobby got?"

"Not a lot," Addison says, leaning forward once more. "A crop failure and cicada swarm outside of Lincoln. So, it could be demonic omens."

Dean shrugs. ”Or could just be a bad crop and a bug problem."

"Yeah, but it's our only lead," Sam argues.

"Any freaky deaths?"

"Not that Bobby could find," Addison replies.

"It's weird. I mean, the night the Devil's Gate opened, all these weirdo storm clouds were sighted over how many cities?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen. You think it would be Apocalypse Now, but it's been five days and bubkis." Sam and Addison stare at Dean. Addison shakes her head and looks out the window. "What are the demons waiting for?"

"Beats me," Sam tells him.

"It's driving me crazy. I tell you, if it's gonna be war, I wish it would just start already."

"I don't know, man. Be careful what you wish for."

* * *

Sam's gaze travels over the curves of Addison's body as she stretches. She glances at him and he looks away. The kiss she had planted on him kept replaying in his mind. He looks back at her to find a light blush on her face. "Hear those cicadas?"

"Uh huh," Addison replies, avoiding his gaze.

"That can't be a good sign," Dean says, then takes another bite of his burger.

"No. No, it can't," Sam agrees.

"So, we're eating bacon cheeseburgers for breakfast, are we," Bobby greets, walking over to them.

"Well, I sold my soul. Got a year to live," Dean replies. "I ain't sweating the cholesterol."

"Think this might be a Biblical plague," Addison asks.

Bobby shrugs. "Well, let's find out. Looks like the swarm's ground zero."

They walk up to the front door of the house. Dean bangs on the door. "Candygram!" After no answer, Dean picks the lock and opens the door.

As they enter the house, guns drawn, an awful smell greets them. "Oh my God," Addison gasps. "What is that?"

"Whatever it is can't be a good sign."

They split up with Bobby and Addison going one way while Dean and Sam go another way. Addison hears screaming coming from a room. She nods to Bobby and he opens the door. They enter the room. She covers her face as more of the horrible smell reaches them. Dean and Sam were already there. The screams were coming from a TV. Three people were sitting on the couch and had obviously been sitting there for a long time. "Bobby, what the hell happened here,” Sam asks.

"I don't know," Bobby confesses.

"Check for sulfur," Dean orders. They start looking for any signs that a demon had been there. A noise comes from outside. Dean motions to it and walks out of the room. As a loud thud comes from outside, Bobby walks out.

"Sam, I say we get the hell out of here," Addison whispers. "Cause I'm about two seconds away from puking."

Sam nods in agreement. He goes to grab her hand, but she moves away from him. He frowns in confusion as they walk outside. Dean was lying on the ground, bleeding from a cut on his forehead. Bobby was talking to an African-American couple. "Sam, Addison," Bobby says. "This is Tamara and Isaac." Addison and Sam smile at them.

"Still bleeding here," Dean pitifully says.

* * *

Addison smiles as she and Sam watch Isaac and Tamara interact. A happily married couple that were also hunters was an extremely rare thing. Sam had his hand on Addison's leg, something that neither of them really noticed. Dean was off talking to someone while Bobby was doing research. "Honey," Isaac calls out. "Where's the Palo Santo?"

Tamara sighs. "Well, where'd you leave it?"

"I don't know, dear. That's why I'm asking."

"What's Palo Santo," Addison asks.

"It's holy wood from Peru," Tamara explains. "It's toxic to demons like holy water. Keeps the bastards nailed down while you're exorcising them."

Tamara searches a bag and takes out a large wooded stake. She holds it out to Isaac with a loving smile. "Thank you, dear," Isaac replies.

"You'd lose your head if it wasn't for me."

"So, how long you two been married," Sam asks.

"Eight years this June."

"The family that slays together..." Isaac explains.

"Right. We're with you there. So, how'd you get started," Sam asks. Addison stares at him with a disbelieving look on her face. An awkward silence had settled over them. "Oh, you know...I'm sorry. It's not — that's none of my business."

"It's...it's all right," Tamara says. It was clear that whatever the reason for them hunting was deeply personal and still affected them.

"Well, Jenny, if you look as pretty as you sound, then I'd love to have an appletini," Dean says, entering the kitchen. "Yeah. Call you." He hangs up and shoves his phone in his pocket. "That was the coroner's tech.

"What'd you learn," Addison asks. "Besides her name and number."

Dean grins. "Get this — that whole family, cause of death? Dehydration and starvation. There's no signs of restraint, no violence, no struggle. They just sat down and never got up."

"So, what? They just decided to sit down and not to eat?"

"What is this," Sam asks. "A demon attack?"

"If it is, it's not like anything I ever saw," Bobby says, walking into the kitchen. "And I've seen plenty."

"Well, what now? What should we do," Dean asks. Addison shrugs.

"Uh, we're not gonna do anything," Isaac corrects.

"What do you mean," Sam questions.

"You guys seem nice enough, but this ain't  _Scooby-Doo_  and we don't play well with others."

"It'd be a lot better if we worked together on this," Addison says. "We'll cover more ground."

"No offense, but we're not teaming with the damn fools who let the Devil's Gate get opened in the first place."

"No offense," Dean repeats, stepping forward.

"Isaac," Tamara scolds. "Like you've never made a mistake."

"Oh yeah, yeah," Isaac replies. "Locked my keys in the car, turned my laundry pink. Never brought on the end of the world through."

"Alright," Dean angrily says, moving towards Isaac. Addison stands up, ready to pull Dean away if she needed to.

"Guys, this isn't helping. Dean—" Sam begins.

"Look, there are couple hundred more demons out there now," Isaac argues. "We don't know where they are, when they'll strike. There ain't enough hunters in the world to handle something like this. You brought war down on us — on all of us."

Tamara grabs Isaac's arm and pulls him out of the room. "Okay. That's quite enough testosterone for now." Dean stands there for a moment, then walks out of the room. Addison sighs and leans against Sam.

* * *

"You know," Addison begins as she and Sam walk down the street to meet up with Dean. It was a small town with plenty of boutiques along Main Street. “You tried to hold my hand yesterday.” Sam shoots her a look. “You did. And don’t deny it.”

“You wouldn’t let me,” Sam replies.

Addison sighs. “Look, Sam, it was just a few kisses. It meant nothing. And we’re gonna act like it didn’t happen.”

They arrive at the crime scene where a woman had attacked and killed another woman over a pair of shoes. Addison rolls her eyes as they enter the store and find Dean flirting with a woman. "Dean, what are you doing," Sam asks, as the woman walks away.

"I'm comforting the bereaved," Dean answers. "What are you doing?"

"Working. Dead body, possible demon attack — that kind of stuff."

Dean fake coughs. "Sam, I'm sorry. It's just, I don't have much time left and...got to make every second count."

An apologetic look crosses Sam's face. "Yeah, right. Alright. Sorry."

Dean grins. "Apology accepted."

Addison shakes her head. Dean's new found excuse for everything was beginning to grow old. He whistles and she turns to see Bobby. Gone was the usual trucker cap and replaced with slicked back hair along with a suit. "Playing Fed," she amusedly asks.

"Attorney for the D.A.'s office," Bobby corrects. "I just spoke to the suspect."

"Yeah? So, what do you think? Is she possessed or what," Sam asks.

"Don't think so. There's none of the usual signs — no blackouts, no loss of control. Totally lucid. Just...she really wanted those shoes. Spilled a glass of holy water on her just to be sure; nothing."

"Maybe she's just some random whack job," Den comments.

"If it had been an isolated incident, maybe, but first the family, now this? I believe in a lot of things. Coincidence ain't one of them. Did you three find anything around here?"

"Nope. Not even an bit of sulfur," Addison says.

"Well, maybe something," Dean says, nodding. They turn and see a security in the corner. "See? I'm working."

Addison scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

* * *

Addison sighs and leans against the window. Staking out a bar with Bobby and Dean wasn't exactly her idea of a good time. But it did give her a chance to reflect on her changing relationship with Sam. From them making out in the Impala to him holding her hand earlier that day. And while she enjoyed it, it had left her confused about their relationship. She wasn't going to deny that she was worried about Dean's reaction, especially since she didn’t know where they stood anymore. "What time is it," Bobby asks, snapping Addison out of her thoughts.

"Seven past midnight," Dean answers, from his position in the front seat.

"You sure this is the right place?"

"No. But me and Ads spent all day canvassing this stupid town with this guy's stupid mug, and supposedly, he drinks at this stupid bar."

A loud pounding comes from the window and they jump. They see Sam, standing there and grinning at them. Sam opens the door and climbs into the backseat. Addison smacks his arm. "That was't funny."

Sam apologetically smiles at her. "Yeah. Uh, alright so — so, John Doe's name is Walter Rosen. He's from Oak Park, just west of Chicago. Went missing about a week ago."

"The night the Devil's Gate opened," Dean asks.

"Yeah."

"Think he might be possessed," Addison asks.

"It's a good bet. So, what, he just walks up to someone, touches them, and they go stark raving psycho?"

"Those demons that got out at the gate," Bobby begins. "They're gonna do all kinds of things we haven't seen."

"You mean the demons we let out?"

"We didn't let the demons out, Sam," Addison argues. "We did what we could to get—"

"Guys," Dean says, motioning to where a man was getting out of a car. “All right. Showtime."

Bobby stops him from opening the door. "Wait a minute."

"What?"

"What did I just say? We don't know what to expect out of this guy. We should tail him till we know for sure."

"Oh, so he kills someone and we just sit here with our junk in our hands?"

"We're no good dead!" Sam elbows Addison and she looks at him. "And we're not gonna make a move until we know what the score is."

Seeing, Isaac and Tamara walking towards the bar causes Addison to groan. "Um, yeah, Bobby, that's not really an option anymore," she says.

"Why not?"

Sam nods in the direction of Tamara and Isaac. Bobby slaps a hand against the steering wheel. "Damn it!"

Bobby and Dean jump out of the car and run up to the door. Addison and Sam watch as they to get the door open, but are unsuccessful. They run back over to them. Bobby starts the car as Dean opens the trunk. He climbs back in and hands jugs of holy water to Sam and Addison. Addison grabs Sam's arm as Bobby drives through the doors of the bar.

Demons were standing around, laughing. Tamara was crying for Isaac who was laying on the floor. The four of them climb out of the car and begin throwing holy water on the demons. Once Sam has Tamara in the backseat of the car, Addison and Bobby climb in. Dean, through, fights the demon they had followed to the bar.

"Dean, get in the fucking car," Addison shouts at him, leaning out of the car. Sam wraps his arm around her waist and pulls Addison back into the car. Dean shoves the demon into the trunk and slam's it shut before climbing into the front seat.

* * *

"And I say we're going back," Tamara angrily shouts. She takes a couple of steps towards Addison. Sam and Dean were a standing a few feet away. Bobby was off in a different room, doing research. "Now!"

"We can't," Addison replies. Patience is a virtue and Addison was doing everything to keep from yelling.

"I left my husband bloody on the floor!"

"I understand that, Tamara, but it's too dangerous to go back."

"Fine. Then you stay. But Im heading back to that bar."

Dean steps forward. "I'll go with her."

"It's suicide, Dean," Sam argues, moving to stand next to Addison.

Dean shrugs. "So, what? I'm dead already!"

"How you gonna kill 'em? You can't shoot 'em. They're not just gonna wait in line to get exorcised!"

"I don't care!"

"We don't even know how many of them there are!"

"Yeah, we do," Bobby says, walking into the room carrying a large book. "There's seven. Do you have any idea who we're up against?"

"No. Who," Dean questions.

Realization hits Addison like a ton of bricks. She looks at Bobby with a disbelieving look. "Seven deadly sins," she asks. Bobby nods. "Great."

"What's in the box?" Everyone looks at Dean. "Brad Pitt?  _Se7en_? No?" Bobby shoves the book at him. "What's this?"

"Binsfeld's Classification of Demons. In 1589, Binsfeld id'd the seven sins — not just as human vice but as actual devils," Bobby explains to him.

"The family — they were touched by Sloth. And the shopper..." Sam starts.

"Was Envy," Addison says. "The one we got is Envy."

"I couldn't suss it out at first, until Isaac," Bobby says. "He was touched with an awful Gluttony."

"I don't give a rat's ass if they're the Three Stooges or the Four Tops! I'm gonna slaughter every last one of them," Tamara shouts.

"We already did it your way. You burst in there half cocked and look what happened! These demons haven't been topside in half a millennium! We're talking medieval, dark ages! We've never faced anything close to this! So, we are gonna take a breath...And figure out what our next move is," Bobby says, yelling the last part. Dean, Sam, and Addison exchange looks. None of them had ever heard Bobby yell at anybody before. Bobby takes a deep breath. "I am sorry for your loss."

Bobby walks away, leaving the four of them standing there, awkwardly. Addison turns and leaves the room. Envy was tied to a chair and sitting in the middle of a devil's trap. "So, you know who I am, huh," he amusedly asks.

"Hate to break it to you," Addison says. "We're not really impressed."

Sam enters the room with Dean. "Why are you here," Sam asks. "What are you after?"

Envy remains silent. "He asked you a question. What do you want," Den coldly tells him.

Envy laughs and Dean splashes holy water on him. "We already have what we want," Envy finally answers.

"Whats that?"

"We're out. We're free. Thanks to you, my kind are everywhere. I am legion, for we are many. So me, I'm just celebrating. Having a little fun."

"Fun," Addison repeats.

"Yeah. Fun. See, some people crochet. Others golf. Me? I like to see people's insides...on their outside."

"I'm gonna put you down like a dog," Tamara coldly says. None of them had heard her enter the room.

"Please," Envy laughs. "You really think you're better than me. Which one of you can cast the first stone, huh? What about you, Dean? You're practically a walking billboard of gluttony and lust. And Tamara. All that wrath. Ooh. It's the reason you and Isaac become hunters in the first place, isn't it? Its so much easier to drink in the rage than to face what really happened all those years ago." Tamara angrily slaps Envy. She goes in for another hit, but Bobby and Dean hold her back. Envy laughs. "My point exactly. And you call us sins. We're not sins, man. We are natural human instinct. And you can repress and deny us all you want, but the truth is, you are just animals. Horny, greedy, hungry, violent animals. And you know what? You'll be slaughtered like animals too. The others - they're coming for me."

"Maybe. But they're not gonna find you. Cause you'll be in hell. Someone send this clown packing," Dean orders, then walks out of the room.

"My pleasure," Tamara replies, picking up a small book.

Addison sends her a concerned glance, then follows the guys out of the room. "I don't think we're gonna have to worry about hunting them," Bobby says.

"What does that mean," Sam asks.

"That the others are gonna come after us," Addison tells him.

Bobby nods in agreement. "And they're not gonna quit easy."

"You guys, why don't you take Tamara and head for the hills," Dean asks. "I'll stay back, slow them down, buy you a little time."

"You're insane, Dean," Sam says. "Just forget about it, okay?"

"Sam's right," Bobby says.

"There's six of them, guys. We're outmanned, we're outgunned. We'll be dead by dawn," Dean argues.

"Yeah, and if we run, Dean, they're still gonna find us," Addison counters.

"Look, if we're going down, we're going down together, alright," Sam says.

Dean shrugs. He hated that idea. "Then let's not make it easy for them."

Suddenly, the house shakes and a gust of wind blows around them. Tamara walks into the room. "Demon's out of the guy."

"What about the guy," Addison asks.

Tamara glares at her. "He didn't make it."

* * *

Addison silently watches as Sam fills a flask up with holy water. Dean was across the room from them, loading a gun. The brothers silently watch each other for a second, then turn back to their respective tasks. Lights start flickering. Static comes on an old radio. Dean cocks his shotgun and stands up. "Here we go."

Someone from outside starts shouting. Addison joins Dean by the window. Isaac was standing outside the door. "Oh my God," she mutters.

"Poor bastard."

"Poor Tamara. Hearing that. Has to be awful." A hand is on her back. She looks to see Sam standing next to her.

They watch as Tamara runs out of the house and tackles the demon down the steps. "Show time," Dean says before walking out of the room.

Addison starts to move over to a corner in the room, but Sam grabs her arm. He draws her into a passionate kiss. And before she knows it, the kiss is over and Sam's next to her. There's no time to contemplate the kiss as the door bursts opens and a demon in a business suit walks in. "Here's Johnny," the demon sarcastically greets. Sam and Addison back to the edge of the devil's trap they had painted on the ceiling. The demon holds up a hand, stopping two more demons behind him. "Come on. You really think something like that is gonna fool someone like me? I mean, me?"

"Let me guess," Sam begins. "You're Pride."

Pride grins at them. He waves a hand towards the ceiling and it cracks, making the devil's trap useless. "The root of all sin. And you...are Sam Winchester. That's right. I've heard of you. We've all heard of you. The prodigy. The boy king. Looking at you now, I got to tell you, don't believe the hype. You think I'm gonna bow to a cut rate, piss poor human like you? I have my pride, after all. And now with your yellow eyed friend dead, I guess I don't really have to do a damn thing, now do I? You're fair game now, boy, and it's open season."

Pride smirks at Sam, then shoves Addison against the wall with a hand around her neck. The two other demons go after Sam. Addison claws at the hand around her neck. She kicks at the demon, trying to get him to let her go. Suddenly, a blonde woman appears in the room. One of the demons that was fighting Sam turns and is stabbed in the throat. A bright orange light comes from the wound and the demon falls to the ground dead.

The second demon that was fighting Sam punches the woman. Pride drops Addison to the ground and goes after the woman, but Sam grabs him and punches him. The woman slits the demon's throat, then stabs Pride in the back of the neck. Both of the demons fall to the ground, with orange sparks.

"Who the hell are you," Sam asks.

"I'm the girl that just saved your asses," she replies.

"Well, I just saved yours too."

The woman chuckles. "See you around, Sam."

The woman walks out of the room. "Wait," Sam shouts going after her. He goes back into the room as Addison slowly stands up. "Are you okay?"

Addison weakly smiles at him. “Yeah. I’m fine," she answers. "My pride, however, is wounded."

* * *

Despite the summer heat, Addison rubs her arms, trying to find some kind of comfort. Morning had arrived and everyone was somber from the fight. No one bothered Tamara as she built a hunter's pyre for Isaac. "Think she's gonna be alright," Sam asks, motioning over to Tamara.

"No," Addison softly answers.

Bobby joins them next to the pit. It had been dug for the people that didn't survive. Salt and lighter fluid had already been put in the grave. "Well, you look like hell warmed over," Dean comments.

"You try exorcising all night and see how you feel," Bobby retorts.

"Were there any survivors," Addison questions.

"Well, the pretty girl and the heavy guy, they'll make it. Lifetime of therapy bills head, but still..."

"That's more than you say for these poor bastards," Dean replies.

"Bobby, that knife — what kind of blade can kill a demon," Sam asks.

"Yesterday, I would have said there was no such thing," Bobby replies.

"I'm just gonna ask it again — who was that masked chick," Dean asks them. Sam and Addison had explained to Bobby and Dean about the woman that had showed up last night. "Actually, the more troubling question would be, 'how come a girl can fight better than you?'"

"Two demons, Dean," Sam says. "At once."

Dean shrugs. "Hey, whatever it take to get you through the night, pal."

"If the seven deadly sins got out, what else got out," Addison tiredly asks. It had been the questioning plaguing her all night. And she was the only one to voice that concern out loud. Dean lights a matchbook and tosses into the grave.

* * *

Addison yawns as she sits in the backseat of the Impala and pulls off her Converses. She was more than ready go to sleep as the Impala drove down the road. Sam was sitting in the front seat while Dean was leaning against the side. "See you around," Tamara tells them.

"Tamara," Bobby says, joining them. "The world just got a lot scarier. Be careful."

"You too," Tamara replies, then climbs into her truck and drives off.

Bobby turns to them. "Keep your eyes peeled for omens. I'll do the same."

"You got it," Dean replies.

"Wait, Bobby," Sam says, standing up. "We can win this war, right?"

Bobby's silent for a moment. "Catch you on the next one."

They watch as Bobby gets in his car and leaves. "So, where to," Dean asks.

"Uh, I don't know," Sam replies. "I was thinking Louisiana maybe."

"Uh, Sam, Mardi Gras isn't until February," Addison says, causing Dean to smirk in agreement.

"Listen, I was talking to Tamara and she mentioned this hoodoo priestess outside of Shreveport that might be able to help us out. You know, with your — with your demon deal."

"Nah," Dean says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"'Nah'? What does that mean, 'nah?'"

"Sam, no hoodoo spell's gonna break this deal. It's a goose chase."

"We don't know that."

"Yes, we do. Forget it. She can't help. We're not going and that's that. What about Reno, huh?"

"You know what? I've had it. I've been bending over backwards trying to be nice to you and...I don't care anymore."

Dean humorlessly chuckles. "That didn't last long."

"Yeah, well, you know what? I've been busting my ass trying to keep you alive, Dean, and you act like you couldn't care less. What, you got some kind of death wish or something?"

"It's not like that."

"Dean, what are you hiding," Addison asks. She had known him practically her entire life. And it was easy to see that he was keeping something from them. She knew that Sam could see it. "Dean, what are you keeping from us?"

"We trap the crossroads demon, trick it, try to welch our way out of the deal in any way? You die, Sam. Okay? You die. Those are the terms. There's no way out of it. If either of you try to find a way, so help me god, I'm gonna stop you."

"How could you make that deal, Dean," Sam sadly asks.

"Cause I couldn't live with you dead. Couldn't do it."

Addison stands up. Her bare feet on the gravel was uncomfortable, but she didn't car. "So, Sam gets to live and you die? Is that it?"

"That's the general idea, Ads."

Addison stares at him for a second, then slaps Dean. "You are such a hypocrite, Dean Winchester. Remember how you felt when you learned that John did the same thing to you? We were there. You were broken. So, you decide to do the same thing to Sam. To me. That makes you a selfish bastard."

"Yeah, you're right, Addison. I am a selfish bastard. But I'm okay with that."

"I'm not," Sam says, standing next to Addison.

"Tough. After everything I've done for this family, I think I'm entitled. Truth is, I'm tired. I don't know, it's like there's a light at the end of the tunnel."

"It's hellfire, Dean."

"Whatever. You're alive, I feel good — for the first time in a long time. I got a year to live, guys. I'd like to make the most of it. So, what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell, huh?"

Addison shakes her head and climbs into the backseat. She was angry. At Dean for making the deal that he made. At the yellow eyed demon for causing the entire mess in the first place. And she was hurt. Hurt that Dean didn’t care about her in the way that she cared about him; that he didn’t see her and Sam as good enough reasons for wanting to live.


	2. The Kids Are Alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Addison looks around the diner. It was crowded with people from the small college town that they were in. Sam was sitting across from her, with his laptop open and talking on his phone. They didn't really talk about what was going on between them. Sam had been doing non stop research, trying to find a way to save Dean. As much as she wanted to save Dean, Addison was still angry about the deal he had made.

"What do you mean you don't think it will work, Bobby," Sam asks, causing Addison to look at him. "It's a demon dispelling ritual. Well, maybe we got the translation wrong. Look we can't just let Dean fry in hell while we...There's got to be something." Dean knocks on the window and they look up. He holds up a newspaper article. "Yeah. No I gotta go. Okay. Never mind."

Sam hangs up his phone as Dean joins them at the table. He sits down next to Addison. "Hey. Who was that,” Dean questions.

"I was just ordering pizza," Sam awkwardly lies. Addison stares at him in disbelief.

Dean stares at him. "Dude, you do realize that you're in a restaurant?"

Sam awkwardly shrugs. "Yeah. Yeah. Oh, yeah. I just felt like pizza, you know?"

"Okay, Weirdy Mcweriderton. So, I think I got something."

"Yeah?"

Dean places the paper on the table. ”Cicero, Indiana. Falls on his own power saw."

"Dude falls on one power saw, huh," Addison questions. Dean nods. "Bullshit. What's the real reason?"

"It could be a case," Dean argues.

"Uh huh. And I'm the Tooth Fairy. What's the real reason, Dean?"

"Lisa Braden."

"Should we even ask?"

"Remember that road trip I took, uh...gosh, about eight years ago now," Dean asks Sam. "You were in Orlando with Dad wrapping up that banshee thing."

"Yeah," Sam answers. "The five states, five day—"

"Well, kind of. Although I spent most of my time in Lisa Braeden's loft."

"So, you want to drive all the way to Cicero to hook up with some random girl," Addison asks.

"She was a yoga teacher. It was the bendiest weekend of my life. Come on. Have a heart, huh? It's my dying wish."

"How many dying wishes are you gonna get," Sam asks.

"As many as I can squeeze out. Come on. Smile! God knows I'm gonna be smiling after twenty-fours with Gumby girl." Dean chuckles. "Gumby girl. Does that make me Pokey?"

"Dean, you are a dirty whore," Addison states. Sam laughs at the look on Dean's face. She smirks.

* * *

Dean slows the Impala down in front of a motel. Sam and Addison gather their gear and climb out of the Impala. Dean revs the engine, causing the Impala to move. "Don't wait up for me," he tells them. Addison rolls her eyes.

Sam spots Addison's phone on the ground. "Wait, Dean. Dean, you're..." Dean drives off without a backward glance. A crunch catches Addison's attention. "Dean!"

Addison sighs and picks up the broken pieces of her Blackberry. "Great," she says, shoving the pieces in her hoodie. Sam grabs her duffel bag and shoulders it with his. "Thanks."

Sam nods as they start walking towards the motel. After a debate on what kind of room to get and checking in, they enter a room with two full sized beds in the room. Sam puts their bags on the dresser. "Look, Ads, if I crossed a line—"

"What? No. Sam, everything’s fine.”

Sam frowns. “You sure?”

"I'm mad at the entire situation." A confused look starts to cross his face. “At Dean. We have to just sit here and act like we’re okay while he does his last year on Earth shit.”

“That’s why we’re gonna find a way to save him, Ads.”

“And what happens if you die in the process?”

“We’ll find to save me too.” Sam places comforting hands on her shoulders. “We’ll figure this out, Ads.”

Addison sighs. “Yeah, well, I hope so.” She pulls out the broken pieces of her Blackberry and drops them in the trash can. “Alright, I’m gonna go get a new phone.”

She starts toward the door, when Sam grabs her wrist. “Mind if I tag along, I could use a break from researching.”

Addison shrugs. “Sure.”

* * *

Sam looks over the top of his laptop and watches Addison playing on her new iPhone. Even through the purchased had maxed out a credit card, it had been worth it to see her smiling. And he hadn’t missed the fact that it was one of the few times that they had been alone since he had joined her and Dean on the road.

Then all the happiness disappears when the blonde woman from Lincoln suddenly sits down next to Addison. "Hello, Sam, Addison."

Addison glances at Sam. "You've been following us since Lincoln," Sam says, tensing.

"Not much gets by you, huh?" The woman smirks, grabbing a fry off of Addison's plate. "These are amazing. It's like deep fried crack. Try some."

"That knife you have," Addison says. "It can kill demons?"

The blonde smirks. "Sure comes in handy when I have to swoop in and save the damsels in distress."

"Where did you get it," Sam asks.

"Skymall."

Addison rolls her eyes. "So, why the hell are you following us?"

"I'm interested in Sam."

Addison tenses. "Why?"

"Because he's tall. And I love a tall man. And then there's the whole antichrist thing."

It's Sam's turn to tense. "Excuse me?"

"Generation of psychic kids, yellow eyed demon rounds you up, celebrity death match ensues. You're the sole survivor."

"How do you know about that," Addison questions. She didn't trust this woman.

"I'm a good hunter. So, Yellow Eyes had some pretty big plans for you, Sam."

"Had being the key word," Sam counters.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. That's right. Ding dong, the demon's dead. Good job with that. It doesn't change the fact that you're special...in that Anthony Michael Hall E.S.P. visions kind of way."

Sam shakes his head. “No. That stuff's not happening anymore. Not since Yellow Eyes died."

"Well, I'm thinking you're still a pretty big deal. I mean, after all that business with your mom."

Sam frowns. "What about my mom?"

"You know, what happened to her friends," the woman says. Nothing changes on Sam's face. "You...don't know. You've got a little bit of catching up to do, my friend. So, why don't you look into your mom's pals." She grabs Sam's hand and writes something down. "And then give me a call and we'll talk again?" She stands up. "And by the way, you do know there's a job in this town, right?"

They watch as the woman walks out of the diner. "Sam, I don't trust her," Addison says. She grabs his hand and sees 'Ruby' along with a phone number. “Through if you were gonna get laid…” She trails off when Sam shoots her an unamused look.

* * *

Addison yawns and rolls on her side. Sam was sitting at the table, doing research about his mother. She buries her face in the pillow and enjoys the fact that she was able to take a nap without someone trying to wake her up. A phone rings and she absentmindedly picks one up. "Hello?"

"There is a job here."

"That's nice." Then it registers in her mind who had called. Addison groans as she slowly sits up. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah. You know that one freak accident we read about in the paper? There's four more that never even made the paper, all in this Morning Hill gated community. People falling off of ladders and drowning in their jacuzzis all over the neighborhood," Dean explains.

Addison frowns. ”Well, that is a little weird."

"It's more than a little weird, Addison. Something's up. Something these nice, big gates can't protect them from."

"Okay. We'll get to work on it," Addison says and quickly hangs up the phone.

"Dean," Sam asks.

"Yeah. Uh, there's been accidents in a neighborhood that Dean thinks aren't accidents."

"And he wants us to check it out?"

"Uh huh.” Addison falls back onto the bed and lets out an annoyed sigh. “Fun times.”

* * *

Sam and Addison follow the grieving widow out of the house. It was the third house they had been to that day. And all of the accidents seemed like regular accidents. The only thing that stood out were the creepy kids at all the houses. "So, once again, I'm very sorry to disturb you. We just really want to expedite that life insurance policy," Sam explains.

"Of course. Okay," the woman replies. She motions to where a ladder was against the wall. "This is, um, where he fell."

"How exactly did he—" Addison begins.

"He was just inside changing a light bulb. Must have lost his balance."

"Were you here when this happened," Sam asks.

"No. I was out. Uh, the only one here was our daughter, Dakota."

Addison tensely smiles when she notices a little girl staring at them from the living room window. "Okay. Okay. Well, uh, I think that's all we need. We'll get out of your way now."

The woman nods. Sam and Addison make their way to the front of the house where their rental car was parked. "Can you do the last house alone? I'm tried of the creepy kids staring at me," Addison says, after reaching the car.

"I think you're right."

“Of course I’m right, Sam.” Addison pauses. "What exactly am I right about?"

Sam chuckles. ”Creepy kids at every house.”

* * *

Sam glances up from his laptop to where Addison was sitting on her bed making a homemade torch. He had never realized how messy she was without Dean being around. Clothes were spread out over the unmade bed. “What,” Addison asks, looking up.

Sam shakes his head. “Nothing.”

"Something's wrong with the kids in this town," Dean announces, entering the motel room.

"Yeah, we know," Addison replies.

"What do you know about changelings," Sam asks.

"Evil monster babies," Dean questions.

"No, not necessarily babies."

Realization crosses Dean's face. "The kids. Creepy, 'stare you like you're lunch' kids?"

"Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner," Addison comments, standing up.

"Well changelings can perfectly mimic children," Sam explains. "According to lore, they climb in the window, snatch the kid. There were marks on the windowsill at one of the kid's houses. Looked to me like blood."

Dean frowns. "The changeling grabs a kid, assumes its form, joins the happy fam just for kicks?"

"Not really. They snack on the mom's synovial fluid," Addison replies. Dean stares at her. "All of the moms will have bruises on the back of their necks. The changelings drain them for a few weeks before the mom finally croaks."

"And then there's Dad and the babysitter."

"Yeah. Seems like anyone who gets between the changeling and its food source ends up dead," Sam tells him.

"How do we kill them?"

Addison holds up one of the homemade torches. "Torch them."

"Great. We'll just bust in, drag the kids out, torch them on the front lawn. That will play great with the neighbors. What about the real ones? What happens to them?"

"They stash them underground somewhere. I don't know why, but if it's true, the real kids might be out there," Sam replies.

"We better start looking.” Dean pauses. “So, any kid in the neighborhood is vulnerable?"

"Yeah," Addison says.

"We gotta make a stop. I want to check on someone."

"Dean, if the real kids are still alive, we don't have time," Sam argues.

"We have to."

"No problem," Addison replies, crossing her arms over her chest. "So, how old is Lisa's kid?" Dean glances at her. "Oh, come on. Why else would you want to check on someone?"

Dean shifts. "Ben's eight." Addison raises an eyebrow. "He's not mine. I asked and Lisa said I wasn't. Can we go?”

* * *

Addison leans forward on the seat. Dean was standing in front of the door to Lisa's house. Curiosity was getting the better of her. The door opens and a tall, tan, and dark haired woman greets Dean. "So, do you think that Ben is Dean's kid," Addison asks.

"I think if Dean had a kid, we'd know about it," Sam replies.

"But what if Dean didn't know?"

Sam shrugs. "There's nothing we can really do then. If Dean is Ben's dad, then it's Lisa's choice as to whether she wants him in Ben's life."

Addison nods as Dean climbs into the driver's seat. It was obvious that he was upset. "They took Ben. He's changed."

"Are you sure," Addison cautiously asks.

"Yeah, I'm sure, Ads. I checked his windowsill."

"Blood," Sam questions.

"I don't think it is blood, and I think I know where the kids are."

* * *

The Impala pulls to a stop in front of partly constructed house that was about five minutes away from Lisa's house. It was in the same neighborhood and even had the same design as most of the other houses. They climb out and grab the torches from the trunk. A large pile of dirt was piled in front of the house. "Red dirt," Addison states.

"That was on the window," Dean replies. "You two take the front. I'll go around."

Sam and Addison enter through the front door. Tools and buckets were scattered around them. Electrical tubing was hanging down from the ceilings. They go in different directions. She doesn't find anything, except for more construction supplies. Moving back down the stairs she came up, Addison hears a noise and pauses. Readying her lighter and torch, she slowly turns around.

A woman with red hair and wearing a dark green jacket was standing behind her. "This is private property," the woman says.

"I didn't see any signs," Addison counters. She takes a step back. The woman lunges for her. Addison raises her lighter and presses down on a button for the torch. The woman screams and disappears in a cloud of dark smoke.

"Addison!" She turns around to see Sam and Dean rushing up the stairs with lighters and torches.

Addison smirks at them. "You're late."

* * *

Addison walks out of the bathroom, towel drying her hair. She sees Sam sitting on the bed, despair etched on his face. She throws the towel on the floor and sits down next to him. "Is everything okay," she softly asks.

"I gotta call Ruby," Sam replies, standing up. She sighs. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. She knew that this Ruby had gotten under his skin and she was worried about him. It doesn't take long for Ruby to show up after Sam calls her. The blonde woman stands near the door as Sam paces the room. "They're dead. All of them. All of my mom's friends. Her doctor, her uncle — everyone who ever knew her, systematically wiped off the map one at a time. Someone went through a hell of a lot of trouble trying to cover their tracks."

"The yellow eyed demon," Ruby states.

"So, what's your deal? You show up wherever I am. You know all about me. You know all about my mom."

"I already told you. I’m—"

"Oh, right, right. Yeah. Just a hunter. Just some hunter who happens to know more about my own family than I do. Just tell me who you are."

"Sam, it—"

"Just...tell me who you are."

"It doesn't matter."

"Just tell me who you are!"

"Fine." The second Ruby's eyes turn that familiar jet black, Addison is up and rummaging through the weapons bag. "Think twice before going for that holy water, Addison."

Addison ignores the demon and pulls it out. She opens the flask, ready to throw it on her. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't send your ass back to hell."

"I'm here to help you."

Addison scoffs. "Yeah, right."

"God's honest truth...or whatever."

"You're a demon!"

"Don't be such a racist. I'm here because I want to help you. And I can if you both trust me."

"Trust you? Why should we even think—"

"Calm down."

"Start talking," Sam angrily tells her. "All those murders...what was the demon trying to cover up?"

"I don't know."

"What happened to my mother?"

"I honestly don't know. That's what I'm trying to find out. All I know is that it's about you."

"What?"

"Don't you get it, Sam? It's all about you. What happened to your mom, what happened to her friends. They're trying to cover up what he did to you. And I want to help you figure it out."

"Why would you want to help me?"

"I have my reasons. Not all demons are the same, Sam. Not all of us want the same thing. Me? I want to help you from time to time. That's all. And if you let me, there's something in it for you."

"What could you possibly—" Addison starts.

"I could help you save Dean.”


	3. Bad Day at Black Rock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.  
> 

"Because 'demon,' that's why. I mean, the second you find out this Ruby chick is a demon, you go for the holy water. You don't chat," Dean angrily exclaims. Addison looks out the window at the dark passing scenery.

"No one was chatting, Dean," Sam counters.

"Oh, yeah? Then, why didn't you send her ass back to Hell? Why didn't you send her right back to Hell, Ads?"

"Because she said she might be able to help us out."

"How," Dean demands. Sam and Addison are both quiet. "No, really, Sam, how? How could she possibly help us?"

"She told us she could help you, okay?" Dean shoots him a disbelieving look. "Help you out of the crossroads deal."

"What is wrong with you two, huh? She's lying! You've gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is: it's me. What else did she say? Dude?"

"Nothing," Sam answers and Dean glares. "Nothing, okay? Look, I'm not an idiot! I'm not talking about trusting her. I'm talking about using her. We're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy. We don't know where they are, we don't know what they're doing. Hell, we don't even know what they want. Now, this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now, yes, it's a risk. I know that. But we need to take it."

"You're okay, right? I mean, you're feeling okay—"

"Yes! I'm fine! Why are you always asking me that," Sam asks Dean as a phone starts ringing. "It's not mine."

"Nope."

"It's not mine," Addison replies, speaking for the first time.

"Check the glove compartment, it's Dad's."

"John's?"

"Yeah, I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call."

Sam rummages through the glove compartment and takes out a cell phone. "Hello," he greets. "Yes? This is Edgar Cayce. No, no, no, no, don't — don't call the police. I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just, uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Um, I-I, uh, I don't have my — my book in front of me..." Sam motions for a pen as he grabs a old receipt. Addison grabs a pen off the floor and hands it to him. "Do you — do you have the address so I can...Sure, okay. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot." Sam hangs up and shoves the phone back into the glove compartment. "Dad ever tell either of you that he kept a container at a storage place?"

"What?"

"Outside of Buffalo?"

"Seriously," Addison asks.

"Yeah. And someone just broke into it."

* * *

The storage facility was an old warehouse that been converted. The elevator that the three of them riding in slowly makes it way up to the fifth floor. Dean sighs. "Man..."

Sam glances at his older brother. "What?"

"Just Dad. You know him and his secrets. Spend all this time with the guy and it's like we barely even know the man."

Addison shrugs as the elevator comes to a stop. "Guess we're gonna learn something about him."

Dean lifts up the doors and they walk out. They reach another door, with a padlock on the bottom. Dean unlocks it and pushes it open. Sam and Addison ready their flashlights. A devil's trap was painted on the dusty ground. And there were numerous footprints in the dust. "No demons allowed," Sam states.

Dean motions to the blood on the ground. "Blood." He kneels down and lightly touches a barely visible fishing wire. He takes Addison's flashlight and moves it along the wire to where a shotgun was aimed at the door. "Check this out."

"Whoever broke in here got tagged."

"Dear old Dad. I got two sets of boot treads here, looks like it was a two man job. And our friend with the buckshot in him looks like he kept walking."

"So, what's the deal? Dad would do work here or something?"

"Living the high life as usual."

Addison looks around the dark storage container. All kinds of weapons were spread throughout the area. She joins the brothers where they were overlooking a desk. "1995," Dean questions. She notices a small trophy in his hand.

"No way," Sam exclaims, taking the trophy from him. "That's my division champion ship soccer trophy. I can't believe he kept this."

"Yeah...about the closest you ever came to being a boy. Oh wow!" Dean picks up a dusty shotgun off the top of a filing cabinet. "It's my first sawed off. I made it myself. Sixth grade."

Addison rolls her eyes and carefully walks around the room. She notices a cut chain hanging on a chain link door and enters the room. "Guys!" They join her and Sam shines a light around the room. More weapons from land mines to hand grenades were spread out on a work bench. "They didn't take any off this stuff."

"I guess they knew what they were after."

"Hey, check this out," Sam calls. Dean and Addison join him by a shelving unit. Sam motions to the symbols pained on some boxes. "See these symbols? That's binding magic. These are curse boxes."

"Curse boxes? They're supposed to keep the evil mojo in right, kinda like the Pandora deal?"

"They're built to contain the power of the cursed object," Addison states.

"Well Dad's journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff, you know? Dangerous hexed items, fetishes, he never did say where they ended up."

"Then this place must be his wardrobe to Narina." Dean stares at her. "What?"

"Nerd," Dean replies. Addison rolls her eyes. "Well, maybe they didn't open it."

* * *

The Impala stops next to a beat up to Honda that was parked in the alley of a apartment building. They climb out and examine the license plate on the front bumper. "Connecticut. Last three digits, 8-8-0," Dean comments and Addison nods.

"That's them all right," she replies, looking at the photo Sam had gotten off a security camera.

"Should have blacked out the plates before they parked in front of the security camera." The three of them make they way into the building and up to an apartment on the forth floor. They burst in, each holding a gun. "Freeze! Freeze! Nobody move!"

"Don't move," Sam shouts. Addison's gaze goes between the two men.

"Don't move," Dean repeats, when one of the starts to move.

"Stop!"

Addison's gaze lands on the opened box on the small coffee table and she lets out a groan. "All right, give us the box. Please tell me that you didn’t—"

"They did," Addison says, interrupting Dean.

Dean slams one of the men against the wall. "You opened it?!"

"Are you guys cops," the man asks Dean.

"Huh?"

"Are you guys cops?"

"What's in the box," Dean demands and the man gestures to a rabbit foot on the table. "Oh, is that it? Huh? It was, wasn't it? What is that thing?" The man punches Dean and his gun drops to the floor, causing it to go off. Addison ducks as the bullet bounces off the radiator and Sam runs into her, causing her to drop her gun on the floor. The men go for her gun making Sam run into Addison again, which causes her to fall to the ground dragging Sam with her since she had grabbed the back of the jacket he was wearing to stop from falling. She lets out a groan when his heavy weight lands on her.

"Sorry," Sam quickly tells her and starts to get off her until one of the men decides to start choking Sam. Addison tries pushing Sam off, but is unable too and sees him reaching for the rabbit's foot which had somehow landed near them. She reaches out for the rabbit's foot but Sam grabs it before she can.

"Dean," Sam exclaims, scrambling to his feet. "I got it."

"No, you don't," one of the men shouts and aims a gun at Sam. From her position on the floor, Addison watches as the man keeps pulling the trigger, but nothing happens. Dean stands up and moves towards the man, who stumbles and trips causing him to fall over the couch. The three of them exchange a confused look.

Addison notices the other man aim her gun at Sam. "Sam!"

Sam turns. The man moves, bumping into the wall. The bookshelves above him fall and knock him out. Addison's gun flies out of his hand and Sam catches it. "That was a lucky break," Dean states. "Is that a rabbit's foot?"

Sam holds up the foot. "I think it is."

"Huh."

* * *

Addison's sitting in the backseat of the Impala watching as Sam goes through John's journal. Seeing that Dean was still in the gas station across the street. She leans forward and wraps her arms around Sam. "It's just a rabbit's foot, Sam," she says. He glances at her with a disbelieving look. "That just happens to be cursed."

Sam sighs and turns his attention back to John's journal. The driver's side door opens and Dean climbs in, carrying a paper bag. "I'm not finding anything on it in Dad's journal," he says. Addison laughs when Dean holds up a pile of scratch cards. "Dean, come on."

"Hey, that was my gun he was aiming at your head and my gun don't jam so that was a lucky break," Dean argues. "Not to mention them taking themselves out, also a lucky break. Here, scratch one. C'mon, Sam, scratch and win!"

Sam reluctantly takes one of the tickets and scratches at it. "It's gotta be cursed somehow otherwise Dad wouldn't have locked it up." He hands the card back and turns to Addison. "Did Patrick's journals mention anything?”

"Twelve hundred...you just won twelve hundred dollars,” Dean exclaims. Addison laughs at the excited look on his face. "I don't know man. Doesn't seem that cursed to me!"

* * *

Sam glances at where Addison was standing next to Dean by the Impala. They were counting the scratch tickets they had made him scratch. Out of ideas, Sam had called Bobby, who was currently yelling at him. "Now look, Bobby, we didn't know," Sam interrupts.

"You touched it," Bobby exclaims. "Damn it, Sam!"

"Well Dad never told us about this thing. And Ads said that she didn't remember anything in any of Patrick's journals. I mean, you knew about Dad's storage place at Black Rock?"

"His lockup? Yeah, I knew. Hell, I built those curse boxes for him. I built a couple for Patrick too. Listen, you have got a serious problem." Sam spots something shiny on the ground. He moves a newspaper to find diamond tennis bracelet. "It's real Hoodoo, Old World stuff." Sam picks up the bracelet and shows it to Dean and Addison. "Made by a Baton Rouge conjuror woman about a hundred years go."

"It's a hell of a luck charm."

Addison bounds over to Sam and takes the bracelet from him. "It's not a luck charm," Bobby argues. "She made it to kill people, Sam! See, you touch it, you own it. You own it, sure, you get a run of good luck to beat the devil. But, you lose it, that luck turns. It turns so bad that you're dead inside a week."

"Well, so I won't lose it, Bobby."

"Everybody loses it!"

"Well, then how do we break the curse?"

Bobby sighs. "I don't know if you can. Lemme look through my library and make some calls. Just sit tight."

Sam shoves his phone into his jacket pocket. Addison's eyes widen. "It's real," she softly says. Her face breaks out in a grin.

"Dude," Dean exclaims. He too was grinning. "We're up fifteen grand!"

* * *

Addison was still grinning when they walk into a local restaurant. The bracelet now gleamed from it's new home on her right wrist. Dean was just as giddy over the money he had won. Sam explaining about the curse hadn't even ruined their moods. "Don't worry, Bobby'll find a way to break it," Dean says. "Until then I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. You can be Rain Man."

"I'm in total agreement," Addison says.

"Look, we’ll just lay low until Bobby calls back, okay," Sam counters. He turns to the host behind the podium. "Hi, uh, table for three please."

"Congratulations," a man exclaims as an alarm goes off.

"It's exciting, I know," Dean mocks.

"You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson's Restaurant family!"

Restaurant employees gather around them and start singing. Balloons and streamers fall from the ceiling. One employee puts a large check in Sam's hands. Another employee takes pictures. Addison and Dean grin while Sam looks on in embarrassment.

* * *

Addison sips on a chocolate milkshake as Dean rapidly eats a sundae. Sam was sitting next to her, researching the information that Bobby had given him earlier. He sighs and closes his laptop before putting back in the bag. "Bobby's right," Sam says. "It's lore goes way back. Pure Hoodoo. You can't just cut one off any rabbit. Has to be in a cemetery, under a full moon, on a Friday the thirteenth."

"I say from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's," Dean replies. He winces and puts his hand on his forehead.

Addison laughs. "That's what you get for eating it too fast."

A waitress walks over, carrying a pot of coffee. "Can I freshen you up?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Thanks," Sam tells her.

The waitress smiles and pours some coffee in Sam's cup. Then she accidentally spills some on the table. "Oh!"

"Oh! Oh I uh—"

The waitress pulls out a rag and starts wiping the table down. "Let me mop up here."

"No, no don't worry. It's okay. It's okay. I got it."

"It's no trouble, really."

"Okay."

"Sorry about that."

"It's all right."

Addison rolls her eyes. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the waitress was flirting with Sam. The waitress finishes wiping up the coffee and walks away. The waitress glances over her shoulder and smiles at the guys. Addison frowns when the guys lean in and continue to watch the waitress. "Dude. If you were ever gonna get lucky..." Dean trails off.

"Shut up," Sam replies, smirking. He catches Addison rolling her eyes. He goes to pick up his coffee up but knocks it over in the process. The hot coffee spills all over the table and himself. "Oh! Oh geez, uh..." Sam quickly stands up and crashes into a waiter, knocking over a tray of food. "Sorry!"

Addison and Dean stare in shock. Sam looks at them, equally confused. "How was that good?" Realization hits Sam and he searches his pockets for the rabbit's foot only to find it gone. "Son of a bitch!"

It only takes them a couple of minutes to gather their stuff and rush out of the restaurant. They run towards the Impala. A thump causes Dean and Addison to stop and turn around. Sam was pushing himself up off the ground. "Wow! You suck," Dean comments.

Addison rolls her eyes and helps Sam up. "You okay," she asks.

"Yeah," Sam embarrassingly replies.

"So what, now your luck turns bad," Dean asks.

Addison winces seeing that Sam's knees had been scrapped and were bleeding. "Apparently so," she answers.

"I wonder how bad?"

* * *

Dean kicks open the door to the apartment of the men who had stolen the rabbit's foot from the lockup. They had heard about one of the men who died in a freak accident over the police scanner Dean kept in the glove compartment. Addison stands besides Dean, while Sam stands a couple of feet back. "Oh, man," the remaining thief moans. "What do you three want?"

"Heard about your friend," Dean says. "That's bad luck."

The thief glares. "Fuck off."

"We know that someone hired you steal the rabbit's foot," Addison states. "A woman."

"Oh yeah? How do you know that?"

"Because the bitch just stole it back from us."

The man laughs. "Listen, man, this is serious," Sam begins, stepping forward. He trips on a wire and falls to the floor, pulling a CD player down with him and knocking over a lamp in the process.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Sam, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good!"

Sam stands up and Addison looks him over. "I want you to tell us her name," Dean demands.

"Screw you," the man exclaims.

"Look, it wasn't a freak accident that killed your partner," Addison tells him.

"What?"

"It was the rabbit's foot," Dean says.

"You're crazy, man."

"You know I'm not. You saw what happened, what it did. All the flukes, all the luck. When you lose the foot that luck goes sour. That's what killed your friend. And my brother here is next. And who knows how many more innocent people after that. Now if you don't help us stop this thing that puts those deaths on your head. Now, I can I read people and I get it. You're a thief, and a scumbag, that's fine. But you're not a killer. Are you?"

"No."

* * *

Addison keeps her distance from Sam as they walk out of the apartment building. She was worried that he would trip again and pulls her down with him. Dean's phone rings and she catches up with him, avoiding the gum on the ground. "Hello," Dean answers. Addison motions for him to put the phone on speaker.

"Dean, great news," Bobby greets. "Wasn't easy but I found a heavyweight cleansing ritual that should do the trick."

"Bobby that's uh, great, except Sam, uh..."

"He lost the foot," Addison finishes.

"He what," Bobby exclaims.

Addison raises an eyebrow watching as Sam looks at the bottom of his shoe and sees the gum. "Bobby, Bobby, listen this, uh, this hot chick stole it from him," Dean starts. "I'm serious. In her mid twenties and she was sharp you know, good enough at the con to play us. And she only gave the guy she hired a name, probably an alias or something. Uh, Luigi or something?"

"Lugosi," Addison and Sam correct at the same time.

"Lugosi," Dean repeat.

"Lugosi," Bobby questions. "Lugosi — aw crap, it's probably Bela."

Addison scoffs. "Bela Lugosi, that's nice."

"Bela Talbot's her real name. Crossed paths with her once or twice."

"Well, she knew about the rabbit's foot, is she a hunter," Dean asks.

"Pretty friggin far from a hunter, but she knows her way around the territory. She's been out of the country. Last I heard she was in the Middle East someplace."

"Apparently she's back," Addison says.

"Which means seriously bad luck for you."

"Great," Dean replies.

"But if it is Bela at least I might know some folks who know how to find her."

"Thanks, Bobby. Again."

"Just look out for Sam, ya idjits," Bobby tells them before hanging up.

Dean puts his phone in his pocket and they look at Sam, who had a depressed look on his face. "Sam," Addison questions.

"I lost my shoe," Sam tells them. They look down and find that he was indeed missing a shoe. Dean rolls his eyes and continues walking to the Impala.

Addison walks over to him and wraps her arm around his, leading him towards the Impala. "You look like a sad puppy."

* * *

"All right, Bobby, thanks. We owe ya another one," Dean says as he parks the Impala in a motel parking lot. Sam shots his older brother a confused look. "All right Bobby's got it on pretty good authority that this Bela chick lives in Queens. So it'll take us about two hours to get there?"

"So what are we doing here," Sam counters.

"You, my brother, are staying here cause I don't want your bad luck getting us killed," Dean replies, opening the door.

They watch as he passes an RV to walk into the main office. Addison pats Sam on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Sam, we'll break the curse and all your bad luck will go away."

Sam turns to look at her. “You were jealous.”

Addison blinks. “What?”

“When that waitress, Bela, stole the foot. How she…” Sam trails off when he realizes that she didn’t know what he was talking about. He shifts. “You know, the only times you really flirt with random guys, Ads, is when you're trying to hustle ‘em." There's a knock on the passenger window and they look to see Dean. He holds up a key. They climb out and follow him to the room. Addison flips on the light to reveal a flowery blue room. "What am I even supposed to do, Dean," Sam questions.

"Nothing. Come here. I don't want you doing anything. I want you to sit right here and don't move, okay," Dean tells him, grabbing a chair. "Don't turn on the light, don't turn off the light. Don't even scratch your nose."

Addison apologetically smiles at Sam, then follows Dean out of the motel room. The drive to New York was silent. Neither of them knew what to say, since it was the first time they had been alone together since the events in Wyoming. Dean reaches over and smacks her arm. "Dean," Addison snaps. He grins at her. She rolls her eyes, but smiles.

The apartment of Bela Talbot in Queens, New York was near the water and heavily secure. Neither of which were a problem for Dean and Addison. The apartment was mostly empty, but what was there were very dangerous artifacts. Addison silently waits with Dean. A woman with brown hair stands next to the security panel. They step out of their hiding spot as the woman turns around. Dean has his gun pointed her while she had a gun pointed at them. "You left without your tip," Dean coldly greets. "You're gonna give it back."

The woman laughs. "Sweetie, no, I'm not," she replies in a English accent.

"Yeah, we'll see. Bela, right?"

Bela smirks. "That's right, Dean. And Addison."

"You know the thing's cursed, don't you?"

"You'd be surprised what some people would pay for something like that."

"Really," Addison questions.

"There's a lucrative market out there. A lot of money to be made. You hunters with all those amulets and talismans you use to stop those big bad monsters. Any one of them could put your children's children through college."

"So, you now the truth, about what's really going on out there and this is what you decide to do with it? You become a thief," Dean replies.

"I procure unique items for a select clientele."

Addison scoffs. "A thief."

"No, a great thief."

"Look, Bela, my brother, he touched the foot. And when you took it from him, his luck went from-" Dean begins.

"I know how it works."

"Then you know that he'll die unless we destroy it," Addison states.

"Oh, you can have the foot." Addison and Dean exchange surprised looks. "For one point five million."

"Nice," Dean angrily says. "Yeah, I'll just call my banker. How'd you even find the damn thing? Stuck in the back of some storage place, middle of nowhere."

Bela glances a ouija board behind her. The two hunters see it setting on the mantle of the fireplace. "I just asked a few of the ghosts of the people that it killed. They were very attuned into it's location."

"So, you're only out for yourself, huh? It's all about number one?"

"Being a hunter is so much more noble? A bunch of obsessed, revenge driven sociopaths trying to save a world that can't be saved?"

"You're a positive person," Addison sarcastically says.

"We're all going to hell, Addison. Might as well enjoy the ride."

"I actually agree with you there," Dean replies. "Anyhoo, this has been charming but uh, look at the time. Oh and this?" Dean pulls the rabbit's foot out of his coat pocket and smirks. He had gotten it while Addison had put a post it on the security alarm. "Looks like you're not the only one with sticky fingers. If it's any consolation I think you're a truly awful person."

Bela shoots at them, causing Addison to duck behind Dean. He holds up the rabbit's foot, mocking her. Bela keeps shooting at them as they run out of her apartment. Addison hits Dean's arm, annoyed that he had decided to taunt Bela before they left.

* * *

The drive back consisted of a comfortable silence. Addison had tried calling Sam, but there was no answer, which caused them to both worry. The Impala passes an RV as the pull up to the motel room. Guns ready, Dean quietly opens the door. A man was aiming a gun at Sam's head, who was duct taped to a chair. "Shut up! It's God, Creedy. He led us here for one reason. To do his work. This is destiny," the man argues with the other man in the room.

Dean cocks his gun, causing them to see him. "Nope. No destiny, just a rabbit's foot."

The man aims his gun at Den. "Put the gun down son or you're gonna be scraping brain off the wall. You too, sweetheart."

Addison sighs and puts her gun down on the dresser. "This thing," Dean mocks, holding up his gun.

"Yeah, that thing."

Dean sets his gun down next to Addison's. "Okay. But you see there's something about me that you don't know." Smirking, he picks up a pen.

"Yeah? What would that be?

"It's my lucky day." Dean tosses the pen and it goes into the barrel of the man's gun. Addison stares in shock, while Sam looks impressed. Dean laughs. "Oh my God, did you see that shot?!" The other man goes to punch Dean and he moves to the side. The man hits the wall, head first, and knocks himself out. "I'm amazing." Dean grabs the remote and throws it at the man trying to pull the pen out of his gun barrel. The remote hits him on the forehead and knocks him. "I'm Batman."

Sam scoffs. "Yeah. You're Batman."

"I was thinking you're more like Robin," Addison remarks, smirking. Sam laughs as Dean ignores her.

* * *

Sam sprinkles the remaining mixture onto the small fire. The three of them were in a cemetery, getting ready to do the curse breaking ritual. Addison glances at Dean and finds him scratching more scratch cards that he had gotten. "All right. Bone ash, cayenne pepper, that should do it," Sam says, standing up.

"One second," Dean replies, not looking at them.

Sam takes a step towards him. "Dean, you—"

"Hey, back of, jinx. I'm brining home the bacon." Addison rolls her eyes. Dean puts the cards into his jacket that was laying on a headstone. He holds up the rabbit's foot. "All right, say goodbye 'wascally wabbit.'"

A gun cocking causes them all to turn. Bela was standing there, aiming her gun at them. "I think you'll find that belongs to me. Or, you know, whatever. Put the foot down, honey."

"No. You're not going to shoot anybody. See, I happen to be able to read people. Okay, you're a thief, fine, but you're not—"

A gun shot rings out. Addison screams and falls down. Her hand flies to the wound on her left shoulder. Dean goes to take step towards Bela, but she raises her gun again. "Back off, tiger. Back off. You make one more move and I'll pull the trigger."

Sam kneels down next to Addison. "Ads, you okay?"

"For the most part," Addison answers and Sam helps her up.

"You've got the luck, Dean. You I can't hit. But them? I can't miss," Bela states.

"What the fuck is wrong with you," Dean exclaims. "You don't just go around shooting people like that!"

"Relax. It's a shoulder hit, I can aim. Besides, who here hasn't shot a few people. Put the rabbit's foot on the ground now."

"All right! All right. Take it easy." Dean goes to put the rabbit's foot down, but at the last second tosses it to Bela. "Think fast."

Bela catches it. "Damn!"

Dean smirks at her. "Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly ass piece of dead thing?"

Bela glares at him, then drops the foot into the fire. "Thanks very much. I'm out one and a half million and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer."

"Wow. I really don't feel bad about that. Ads, Sam?"

"Not one bit," Addison coldly says.

Bela leans agains the headstone that Dean's jacket was on. "Hmm. Maybe next time I'll hang you out to dry."

"Oh, don't go away angry. Just go away."

Bela smirks. "Have a nice night."

They watch as she walks away before looking at the fire. The rabbit's foot was mostly burnt up. "Ads, you good?"

Addison nods. She removes her hand to revel that the bullet only grazed her. "Yeah, just a graze."

"I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck, no bad luck. Oh! I forgot we're up forty-six thousand dollars. I almost forgot about the scratch tickets." Dean searches his jacket, but finds the pockets empty. A car drives past the cemetery and they exchange angry looks. "Son of a bitch!”


	4. Sin City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

"Hey, what's up," Dean greets when Sam enters the kitchen. He was sitting at the table making iron bullets while Bobby sat across from him, working on the Colt. Addison sat next to Dean, working on her laptop.

"Might have found some omens in Ohio," Sam replies. "Dry lightning, barometric pressure drop."

"Well, that's thrilling."

“I read about that. In the same town some guy committed suicide in a church and another guy went postal in a hobby shot before the cops took him out," Addison says. "Could be demonic omens."

"Or just a suicide and a psycho scrap booker."

"But it's our best lead since Lincoln," Sam argues.

"Where in Ohio?"

"Elizabethville, a lovely half dead factory town in the rust belt," Addison brightly says.

"There's got to be a demon or two in South Beach."

Sam laughs. "Sorry, Hef. Maybe next time. How's it going, Bobby?"

"Slow," Bobby answers.

"I tell you, it's a little sad seeing the Colt like that," Dean comments.

"The only thing it's good for now is figuring out what makes it tick."

"So, what makes it tick," Addison asks. Bobby gives her an unamused look.

"So, if we want to go check out these omens in Ohio," Dean starts. "You think you can have that thing ready by this afternoon?"

"Well, it won't kill demons by then," Bobby replies. "But I can promise you it'll kill you."

Dean grins. "All right, come on, we're wasting the daylight." He stands up and grabs his jacket off the back of the chair. "See you, Bobby."

Addison smiles at him. "Hey," Bobby calls out before they walk out of the house. "You three run into anything — anything — you call me."

* * *

The church felt eerie to Addison as they follow Father Gil. She glances up at the balcony where the man had committed suicide. A shiver runs down her back. Sam gives her a supportive smile and she smiles back. "There's not much left for the insurance company. It was suicide," Father Gil says. "I saw it myself."

"Well, this shouldn't take long then," Dean replies.

Father Gil motions up to the balcony. "That's where Andy did it. It's the first time I'd seen him in weeks. He used to come every Sunday."

"When did he stop," Sam asks.

"Probably about two months ago right around the time everything else started to change."

"Change," Addison questions.

"Let's just say this used to be a town you could be proud of. People...cared about each other. Andy sang in the choir and then one day, he just wasn't Andy anymore. It was like he was..."

"Possessed," Sam offers.

"You could say that. Gambled away his money, cheated on his wife, destroyed his business. Yes, like a switch had flipped."

"Father, did you know the man who killed those folks in the hobby shot?"

"Sure, Tony Perkins."

"Tony Perkins," Dean repeats. "Good man."

"Would you say that his personality suddenly changed one day too," Addison asks.

"I never thought about it that way, but..." Father Gil trails off. "Yes. About the same time as Andy — about two months ago."

"Well, thank you, Father," Dean tells him. "Appreciate your time."

The three of them walk out of the church. "Two months ago, we open up the devil's gate, all of a sudden this town turns into Margaritaville," Sam states. "It's no coincidence."

* * *

The three of them enter their motel room. Dean grins at the mirrors on the ceiling. Addison rolls her eyes and sets her bag on the bed farthest from the door. "Sam, I'm sharing with you since I don't want Dean trying to feel me up all night."

"Hey, I wouldn't do that," Dean argues. Sam and Addison stare at him. "Okay, I would." The door across the hall opens and they watch as a man walks out. "Richie. I don't believe it."

"Hey, Dean...Winchester, right," Richie replies. He grins at Addison. "And Addison Sloan. Boy, do I remember you."

"Hi, Richie," Addison reluctantly greets.

A scantily clad woman walks out of Richie's room. "This is my sister, uh, Cheryl."

"Hey," Cheryl greets before turning to Richie.

"Cheryl," Dean responds, giving her a once over.

Richie hands Cheryl some money. "There." They watch as Cheryl leaves. "Well, you know...stepsister."

"Come on in," Dean tells Richie. The other man enters the room. Dean motions to Sam. "This is my brother, Sam."

"Hey. How you doing?"

"Not too bad," Sam answers. "How do you three know each other?"

"You were in school," Dean explains.

"It was that succubus, in Santa Fe right," Richie asks.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Oh, man. You should have seen the rack on this broad. Fucking tragedy when I had to gank her."

"Uh, hold up," Addison says, shaking her head. "Who killed her? Cause I remember you being monster chow until we showed up, right, Dean."

"That's how I remember it," Dean agrees.

"Oh, I forgot what a couple comedians you two are," Richie deadpans.

"Richie, Richie, I told you then and I'll tell you again — you're not cut out for this job. You're gonna get yourself killed."

Richie's phone rings. "Talk to me," he answers. He turns to Dean. "FYI, Winchester — words hurt. No, it's not a good time, baby. Later."

"You find anything in this town, anyway?"

"Uh, no. I got nothing. Oh, wait a minute. You mean as in demons and whatnot?"

"Uh huh," Addison says.

"No, I got nothing."

"What about your 'sister'?"

"Honestly, she definitely had the devil in her, but she wasn't no demon, you know what I'm saying?" Dean and Addison stare at Richie. He nods. "Right. Seriously. Church guy, hobby shop guy — they were lunch meat by the time I got here. Maybe they were possessed, but I can't prove it."

"Yeah, that's where are we too," Sam says. "Let's just say the demons are possessing people in this town you know, raising hell."

"Then why would a demon blow his brains out," Addison questions.

"For fun," Richie suggests. "He wrecks one body, moves to another. Like taking a stolen car for a joyride."

"Anybody else left in town that fits the profile — nice guy turned douche — that's still breathing," Dean asks.

"There's Trotter."

"Who's that," Sam asks.

"He used to be head of the Rotary Club. Then he turned bastard all of a sudden. Brought in the gambling, the hookers. He practically owns this whole town."

"Know where we could find him?"

"Oh, he'll be at his bar in a few hours."

* * *

Addison enters the bar with Dean and Sam behind her. People were drinking, women were flirting with married men, and cocktail waitress walked around. On the walk over, Sam had to grab Dean to stop him from joining a hooker in the back of some car. "I thought you two said that this was some boarded up factory town," Dean says.

"It's supposed to be," Addison replies, looking around.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's do some research." Dean walks up to the bar, where they find Richie wearing a bright satin shirt. "Oh, Richie. Look at you."

"Hey," Richie greets. He leers at Addison and she rolls her eyes.

"Bringing satin back."

"Oh, you like this? Try Thai silk — Canal Street. You have to pay three hundred for threads like these, easy. Cost to me — forget about it."

"How much is forget about it," Sam curiously asks.

"Ah, forget about it." Richie motions to where a man was sitting in a booth surrounded by women. "That's Trotter over there. He sits there all night. Can't touch him."

"Great," Addison sighs. "So, what do we do now?"

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm gonna do a little investigating with that bartender," Dean says, looking the bartender up and down.

"Easy. Me and her, we got a little somethin' somethin' lined up for later," Richie informs them.

Addison scoffs. "Right."

“Jealous?"

"Oh, yeah. Big time."

Sam laughs. Dean shakes his head in amusement. "All right. I got to hit the head," Richie announces. "Release the hostages. Be back in a few."

"No way he gets a girl like that. I mean, look at her. You could fit that ass on a nickel," Dean loudly says.

"You think so?"

They turn to se Father Gil sitting at the bar. An embarrassed look appears on Dean's face. "Oh. Sorry, Padre."

"Knew you three would find your way here. They all do," Father Gil says, taking a swig of whiskey.

"No offense, but what are you doing here, Father," Sam questions.

"Like it or not, you go where your flock is."

The bartender, a pretty dark haired woman, pours him another drink. "Plus, the clergy drinks for free."

"True." Father Gil raises his glass. "And a certain bartender owes me a confession."

"Not in this lifetime, Father."

"I better see your butt on Sunday," Father Gil says, standing up. He glances at Dean. "Nickel or no nickel."

The bartender turns to them. "What can I get you three?"

"What's your speciality," Dean questions.

"I make a mean hurricane."

"I guess we'll see about that."

The bartender nods, then walks away. Sam and Addison look at Dean, with disbelieving looks on their faces. "You drink hurricanes," Sam asks.

Dean grins. "I do now."

"That was like the lamest pickup line ever, Dean," Addison amusedly comments.

"Hey," Sam says, motioning over to where a man was by the pool table. They could easily see gun in the man's hand. Dean tackles the man to the ground after a gunshot rings out. Sam splashes some holy water on the man but nothing happens.

* * *

Addison sighs as she watches the police officers walk around the crime scene. The bar was crawling with cops and people from the local newspapers. The police handcuff the man that Dean had tackled and lead him out of the bar. "Too many cops here. I say we roll," Sam quietly says.

"Just be cool," Dean replies. "Poor jerk. Only thing possessing him was a sixer of Pabst."

"Well, if the people aren't possessed, then what is going on around here," Addison questions.

"I don't know. Maybe it is just what it is — town full of scumbags."

Sam sighs. "Yeah. Maybe."

One of the police officers walks over to them. "You three ready for your mug shots," the officer asks. Nervous looks are exchanged between the brothers and Addison. "The photographer's gonna be here in a few and take your picture for the local paper."

Dean lets out a relieved breath. "Be an honor, officer. What a thrill."

The officer nods and walks away. "Okay. It's time to go now," Addison tells them, sliding off the stool.

"Wait a second. Wait a second."

"What," Sam asks.

"Where's Richie?"

* * *

Addison shoots Sam a thankful smile when he sets a beer down in front of her. Dean was glued to his phone, while a burger was sitting in front of him. Sam sits down, putting two beers down. "You do realize there's red meat within striking distance, right?"

"How many times do I got to tell Richie he's gonna get himself in trouble," Dean replies, putting his phone down.

"Dean," Addison sighs. She understood his worry about Richie. "Maybe Richie finally wised up and left."

"He's a moron, Ads," Dean counters and Addison nods in agreement. "He's a sweet moron, but he's not a coward. He wouldn't just bail. I gotta find him."

"All right," Sam says. "Meanwhile I think I'm gonna trail this Trotter guy."

"Why," Addison questions.

"I don't know. Something about the way he looked at me last night. Maybe there is something going on here."

* * *

Sam walks down the hallway outside of Trotter's office. Addison was behind him, choosing to stay and help him rather than helping Dean look for Richie. His phone rings, causing him to jump. He pulls it out, ignoring the amused look on Addison's face. "Dean," he quietly greets.

"Sammy," Dean replies.

"Yeah. Hey. I can't talk right now."

"You guys okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine. Just meet us at the bar in twenty minutes, okay," Sam tells him, then hangs up.

Addison walks around him, then kneels down and picks the lock on the door. Silently, they enter the office and Sam closes the door. "All right. What are we looking for," she asks. Sam shrugs and starts searching through the desk. She sighs and opens a filing cabinet.

The door opens and they both look to find a Trotter, a middle aged, balding man, enter the room. A body guard was behind him. "What are you doing here," Trotter demands.

The bodyguard goes towards them, but Sam takes him out. Sam glances at Addison. "I think maybe you know."

Trotter aims a gun at them. "Yeah. Well, I think I'm calling the cops."

"Cops?"

"Breaking and entering, assault — you're in a peck of trouble, my friends."

"Uh, well, I think I could probably explain it!" Addison watches as Sam wrestles the gun away from Trotter. He points it at them. "All right, back up!"

"Get back. Money's in the safe! Take it and go."

"We don't want your money," Addison says, pulling out a bottle of holy water. "We just have to be sure." She splashes holy water on him, but nothing happens.

"What kind of psychos are you?"

Embarrassment floods Addison. "Sorry. This was just a minor misunderstanding. We're just going to go."

"Yeah," Sam continues. "Uh, you know, I'll take these." He takes the bullets out of the gun, then puts the gun on the desk. "I'll, uh, I'll leave this for uh...you, uh, have a nice day?"

The two of them quickly leave Trotter's office. Addison sighs. "Maybe Dean was right," she softly says. "Maybe nothing is going on in this town." Sam shrugs in response. He honestly didn't know what was going on.

* * *

Addison looks around the crowded bar, searching for Dean. There was no sign of him. She sighs and joins Sam at the bar, shaking her head. A woman, who was an obvious prostitute, grins at Sam. "You look kind of tense. You know, I know a surefire way to relax."

"I have a girlfriend," Sam lies, waving down the bartender.

"She doesn't have to know."

Addison smirks and squeezes her way in between the prostitute and Sam. "Oh, she has a way of finding things out."

The bartender finishes and walks over to them. "What can I get for you?"

"Um, you remember the guy we were with last night," Sam questions. He motions to the table they had sat at last night. "We sat right there."

"The big hero who jumped on Reggie," the bartender replies.

"Yeah, yeah. The — the big hero. Right. Um, have you seen him around at all today?"

"Maybe. Depends."

"D-depends on what?"

Addison sighs and pulls out a twenty dollar bill. "He left with Casey about an hour ago."

"Know where they went," Addison questions.

"Her place...for bible study."

"You got an address," Sam asks.

"What's wrong with you? You think I'm gonna give you a co-worker's address just so you two can go over there and get your freaky peeping-tom rocks off?" Addison slides another twenty across the bar. "Corner of Piermont and Clinton. Have fun.”

Addison grab's Sam's arm and leads him out of the bar. “You so owe me, Sam Winchester.”

* * *

"Bobby, it's Sam and Addison," Sam says as they walk back towards the bar. They hadn't found Dean at Casey's house or any trace that he had even been there. "We got a big problem. We found some sulfur and now we can't find Dean. Call us as soon as you get this."

Addison waves at the bartender and he walks over to them. "They weren't there," she says.

"I guess you two got to catch your hollies another night. Here." The bartender puts a couple of beers on the counter. "Why don't you have a drink and relax?"

"I don't want to relax," Sam angrily says. "What is with the people in this town?"

"Suit yourself, princess," the bartender coldly replies before walking away.

Addison places a comforting hand Sam's arm. "You gotta calm down, Sam," she softly says. "We're gonna find Dean."

"It's just the people in this town, Ads," Sam vents.

"There's people like that every where."

Sam suddenly walks away. Addison sighs and follows. Father Gil was sitting in one of the booths in the back. "Father."

"Yes," Father Gil replies, smiling at them.

"Um, can we talk to for a sec?"

"Of course."

Father Gil motions for them to sit down across him and they slide in. "So, the - the bartender from the other night, Casey, you know her pretty well?"

"Since she was in pigtails."

"Well, um, she and my brother, they, uh, they left tonight. Together."

"Well, not that I approve, but they are consenting adults."

"Right."

"I'm sorry, you said 'brother.' I thought you were insurance investigators."

"We are," Addison covers. "It's a family business. So, we went to Casey's place and they weren't there. And...well, I'm just worried that they might be in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"Just trouble," Sam explains. "Please, Father, we need your help. Is there anything you could tell us about Casey — anyplace she'd go, maybe?"

"Yes, there is a place. Let me get my jacket."

"Wait, Father, we got this. You don't have to come," Addison says.

"If Casey's really in trouble, then there's nothing to talk about." The three if them climb out of the booth. Father Gil pulls on his jacket. "Shall we go?"

* * *

The ride in Father Gil's car is silent. Addison hated the idea that Father Gil came with them, but there wasn't anything she could've say to have changed things. "So, insurance investigating," Father Gil says, breaking the silence. "You two enjoy the work?"

"Yeah," Addison answers. "We like being able to help people put their lives back together."

"Ever think about doing anything else?"

"Like what," Sam questions.

"Mmm, anything. You seem like a pretty smart kid. Somehow I see you out in font of the pack. You could do some great things."

"I don't know. I like what I'm doing, I guess."

"Well, it's your life. Does, um...Dean?"

"Yeah Dean."

"Does he find trouble often?"

"Yeah, yeah. Dean finds his fair share."

"Well, it's a good thing he has you — his brother's keeper."

* * *

They arrive at a large house in a spacious neighborhood. The Impala was parked out front, a sure sign that Dean was there. They climb out of the car. "Dean! Dean," Sam shouts. He turns to Father Gil and motions to the other side of the house. "Check that way."

Addison jogs around the house. "Dean!"

"Addison!"

"Dean?" She looks at Sam and they look around, trying to figure out where Dean was. Addison spots him in a window and kneel. "Dean, you okay?"

"Yeah," Dean replies as Sam kneels down next to her. "The basement caved in!"

"Hey, hold on, okay? We're coming."

Dean nods. "Guys, be careful."

They stand and turn to find Father Gil standing behind them. His eyes were jet black. A shot is fired and they look to see Bobby standing there with the Colt before he's flung to the side. Before she knows it, Addison's flying through the air and lands in the bushes. She groans in a pain as she slowly stands up. "Ads!" She looks up to see Sam running over to her. "Ads, you okay?"

"I'm fine," Addison answers. "Go help Dean." Sam hesitates. "Sam, go."

Sam takes off. Addison makes her way over to where Bobby was standing. Ruby was there too. Addison looks at Bobby with a questioning look. The older hunter shrugs. "She fixed the Colt," he explains. She sighs and nods at the demon.

* * *

Addison winces as she pulls on a tank top. Her ribs were bruised. She knew Sam was having a hard time with the fact that killing two demons meant he had killed two people in the process. She sighs and walks out of the bathroom. Sam was packing his bags. She smiles at him but he pays no attention to her. “Sam—"

"Leaving so soon?" They turn to see Ruby standing the doorway of their motel room. She walks in. "We haven't even had a chance to celebrate."

"Yeah, well, you can celebrate without me," Sam replies.

"You're not gonna get all pouty on me now, are you? Come on! You killed two demons today."

"Yeah, well, maybe you don't care, but I killed two humans too."

"Sam, you know what happens when demons piggyback humans. They leave them road hard and put up wet. Chances are those two would have died a slow, sticky death. You probably did them a favor."

Sam scoffs. "Did them a favor? You're a cold bitch, you know that?

"Yeah and this cold bitch has saved both your ass a couple of times now. Some respect might be nice. Especially if you want me to help you out with Dean and his little problem."

"Last time I checked, Dean was still going to hell," Addison comments.

"Everything in its own time, Addison. There's a quid pro quo here. We're in a war."

"Except for some reason you're on our side. Why?"

"Go fuck yourself. That's why. I don't have to justify my actions to either of you. If you don't want my help, fine, then give me the gun and I'll pass it on to someone who will use it."

Sam picks up the Colt. He aims it at Ruby. "Maybe I'll just use it on you."

"Go ahead, if that makes you happy. It's not gonna do much for Dean, though. So, what's it gonna be?" Sam lowers his arm. "This won't be easy, Sam. You're gonna have to do things that go against that gentle nature of yours. There'll be collateral damage...but it has to be done."

"Well, I don't have to like it."

"No. You wouldn't be Sam if you did. On the bright side, I'll be there with you. That little fallen angel on your shoulder."

Addison looks between Sam and Ruby. She couldn't help but feel uneasy about the entire situation, especially working with a demon. But she wanted to save Dean and pushed all the uneasiness to the back of her mind.


	5. Bedtime Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Addison sighs and rests her head against the cool window. Dean and Sam were arguing, once again. And about the same thing, Dean's deal. She understood where they both were coming from, but that didn't mean the constant bickering between them didn't annoy her. "I don't understand, Dean. Why not," Sam questions.

"Because I said so," Dean counters.

"We got the Colt now!"

"Sam..."

"We can summon the crossroads demon—"

"We're not summoning anything."

"Pull the gun on her and force her to let you out of the deal!"

"We don't even know if that'll work!"

"Well then we'll just shoot her! If she dies then the deal goes away!"

"We don't know if that'll work either, Sam! All your pitching me right now is a bunch of 'ifs' and 'maybes' and that's not good enough, because if we screw with this deal, you die!"

"And if we don't screw with it, you die!"

"Sam, enough! I am not going to have this conversation."

"Why, because you said so?"

"Yes, because I said so!"

"Well, you're not Dad!"

A tense silence falls over the Impala. "No, but I am the oldest. And I'm doing what's best. And you're going to let this go, you understand me?" Sam remains quiet. They both knew he wasn't going to let it go. "Ads, tell me about the psychotic killer."

Happy with a change of topic, Addison grabs the paper out of her bag. "Uh, it's a psychotic killer that rips victims apart with 'brute like ferocity.'"

"Okay. Any mention of his razor sharp teeth or his four inch claws? Animal eyes?"

"No, but the lunar cycle matches up. If this really is a werewolf, then we only got two days since the full moon is on Friday."

Dean shrugs and presses down on the gas. "Two days, no sweat."

* * *

Dressed in suits, the three of them stand in the hospital room of a man, Kyle, who was at the attack. He looked fine, except for a few cuts on his forehead. "I'm Detective Plant, this is Detective Page and Detective Jones. We're with the Country Sheriff's Department," Dean says, showing Kyle the fake badge.

"Yeah, I've been expecting you," Kyle replies.

"You have," Addison asks, exchanging confused looks with the brothers.

"All morning. You are the sketch artists, right?"

"Absolutely. Yeah," Dean answers and pats Sam's shoulder. "That is exactly who our partner is. The things he can do with a pen. But listen, before we get started on that, I wanted to ask you: how'd you get away?"

Kyle shrugs. "I have no idea. I was hiding. And he found me. He was coming right for me, and then he just...stopped. He stared at me with this blank look. After that, he just took off running."

"Okay. I'm gonna need as much physical detail as you can remember," Sam says, reluctantly taking out his notepad.

"He was about six feet tall. Dark hair."

"What about his eyes? What color eyes did he have?"

"Maybe...blue?"

"Blue."

"It was dark."

"Did they seem, uh, animal-ish," Dean asks.

"Excuse me?"

"What about his teeth? You notice anything strange about them," Sam questions.

"No, they were just teeth."

"Teeth. Okay."

"What about his fingernails," Dean asks.

"Okay, look. He's just a normal guy with normal eyes and teeth and fingernails."

"Look, sir, it's okay—" Sam starts.

"No. No. Those were my brothers. This guy...he killed my brothers. How you would feel?"

Sam pauses. "I can't imagine anything worse."

"This has to be hard, but if you can remember any more details..." Addison softly says, trailing off.

"There was one more thing. He had a tattoo on his arm of a cartoon character. It's the guy who's chasing the Roadrunner," Kyle tells them.

"Wile E. Coyote," Dean states.

"Yeah, that's it."

A middle aged man, wearing a lab coat enters the room. "Kyle," he asks.

"Dr. Garrison," Kyle replies.

"How you holding up?"

"Okay, considering..."

"You're Kyle's doctor," Dean asks.

"Yes," Dr. Garrison answers.

Dean pulls out his badge. "Can I just ask you a few questions?"

"Sure." Dr. Garrison walks into the hallway with Dean. Addison shoots Sam a smile and follows Dean out with Dr. Garrison. Sam awkwardly stands there.

"Don't I get to see it," Kyle asks.

"What," Sam asks. Kyle motions to the notebook in Sam's hand. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, um, yeah, it's a, you know. Work in progress."

Sam shows Kyle the drawing. "It — it's really...huh."

* * *

Addison laughs as she looks over Sam's drawing. It was a drawing of a stick figure with a scribble on his arm. They were walking down the street. "Nice, Sam. You're the next Vermeer," she says, handing the notepad back to Sam.

"Who," Dean asks.

"A famous Dutch painter from the seventeenth century, Dean," Addison explains and Dean stares at her. "Never mind."

"So, what did the doc have to say about Kyle's brothers," Sam asks.

"Not much. They were DOA at the scene. He did give us the lowdown on the coroner's report," Dean answers.

"Let me guess: their hearts were missing."

"Nope, but chunks of their kidneys, lungs, and intestines were."

"That's just gross."

"Yeah, except that isn't werewolf behavior," Addison says.

"So, what? A demon? The attacker could have been possessed."

"Then why would a demon stop halfway through an attack?"

The brothers stop walking and exchange a look. "I think — it could've — yeah, I got nothing," Sam replies.

"Me neither," Dean says and they both look at Addison.

"Hey, don't look at me. I don't have anything," Addison counters and continues walking down the street.

* * *

Addison, Dean, and Sam enter a hospital room. A blonde woman was lying in the bed, while Dr. Garrison comforted her. Dr. Garrison had called them in after the woman came in, claiming to have been attacked by a old woman in the woods. Dr. Garrison turns from the woman and walks over to them. "Detectives."

"Dr. Garrison," Dean replies.

"What the hell's going on here? My whole town is going insane," Dr. Garrison tells them.

"We'll let you know when we know," Addison answers. Dr. Garrison nods and walks out of the room.

They walk over to the woman. Dean pulls out his badge and shows it. "Ms. Watson? Hi. We just need to ask you a few questions," Dean says.

"Do we have to go over this again? Now," Ms. Watson replies.

"We'll try to be brief. Ms. Watson, can you tell us how you got away," Sam asks.

"I didn't eat as much as Ken did, so I wasn't as out of it. When the old woman was...carving up Ken, I shoved her and she fell. Cracked her head on the stove." Ms. Watson looks between the three hunters. "She's dead, right? I killed her?"

"Do you have any idea why she'd do this to you," Dean asks.

"No! One minute, she's just a sweet old lady, and the next, she was like a monster."

"Do you remember anything else," Addison asks.

"Yeah. Did you find a little girl there, by any chance?"

"A little girl was at the house?"

"I thought I saw her outside the window. She just disappeared. Vanished into thin air. It must have been the drugs."

The three of them exchange a look. "This disappearing girl — what did she look like," Dean questions.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. Every detail matters," Sam replies.

"She had this dark, dark hair and really pale skin. She was around eight. She was a beautiful child. It was odd to see her in the middle of something so horrible," Ms. Watson explains. The woman buries her face in her hands and lets out a sob.

* * *

The cottage was small and in the middle of the woods. The kitchen slash living room was small. A wood stove was in a corner. A wooden table and chairs sat in the middle. Sam held the EMF meter in his hand and walks around while Dean examines the room. Addison wrinkles her nose as she looks around the room. "Well, there's no sulfur anywhere. How about the EMF," Dean asks.

"Yeah, it's going nuts," Sam says, standing by the window. "Only over here by the window. There's definitely a spirit here."

"Who stood outside the crime scene and watched?"

"Looks like."

"It's Hansel and Gretel," Addison comments and Dean stares at her. "It's a German fairy tale written down by the Grimm Brothers. A boy and a girl go hiking in the woods, get lost, find a house made of candy and a witch that tries to eat them."

"And then we've got the three brothers arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the big, bad wolf," Sam says and Addison nods.

"Yeah."

"Actually, those guys were a little chubby," Dean comments. "But wait, I thought all those things ended with everybody living happily ever after."

"Not the ones written by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. Their stories were filled with sex, violence, cannibalism, and lots of other awesome gory stuff. But over two hundred years, it gets really sanitized. Turned into Disney movies where everyone has unreal happy ending."

"So, you think the murders are, what, an re-enactment? That's a little crazy."

"Have you seen our lives?"

"Touché. How's the creepy ghost girl involved."

"Well, she must've been here for a reason. I'm willing to bet top dollar she was at the construction site, too," Sam says.

"We've gotta do research now, don't we," Dean asks them and Addison smirks at him.

* * *

Dean walks out of the local library, an unhappy look on his face. Sam was waiting for him, alone. He shoves his hands into his jacket pocket as they walk through the park. "Where's Ads," he asks.

"She went to get something to eat," Sam explains. "Said she'd met us at the motel. So?"

"I checked every record they had. Found the usual amount of childhood deaths for a town this size."

"Okay."

"Wanna know how many were little girls with black hair and pale skin?"

"Zero."

"Zero! You wanna know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing?"

"Zero."

"Right again. Zip. Zilch, nada. Tell me you've got something good cause I've totally wasted the last six hours."

"Well, you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930's."

"She got a thing for fairytales?"

"No, trances. See she'd go into these unconscious states where, um, get this, her thought and actions were completely controlled by spirits."

"A ghost puppet master."

"Yeah."

"Think that's what this kid is doing? Sending wolfboy and grandma into trances, making them go kill crazy?"

"Could be. You know, kinda like uh, a spirit hypnosis or something."

"Trances I get, but fairytale trances? That's bizarre even for us."

A croaking causes them to stop. They see a toad sitting on the side of the sidewalk. "Yeah, you're right. Thats completely normal."

"All right. Maybe it is fairytales. Totally messed up fairytales. I tell you one thing, there's no way I'm kissing a damn frog."

Sam notices something on a house across the street. "Hey, check that out." He motions to a pumpkin sitting on the front steps, with a couple of mice running around.

"Yeah? It's close to Halloween and they have rats."

"What? You remember Cinderella? The pumpkin that turns into a coach and the mice that become horses?"

Dean stares at his brother, a disbelieving look. "Dude, could you be more gay? Don't answer that." They walk up to the front door and Dean picks the lock. Entering, the house looked normal. "Well, who knows, maybe you'll find your Fairy Godmother?"

A noise comes from the kitchen. They draw their guns and walk towards it. A girl was handcuffed to the stove. Sam kneels down and takes out his lock pick kit. "Hey, hey. It's okay. We're here. We got you."

"You have to help me, she's a lunatic," the girl frantically says.

"What happened," Dean questions.

"My stepmom. She just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me. Chained me up."

"Where is she now," Sam asks.

"I don't know."

Dean glances around the kitchen. A little girl, very pale and with jet black hair was standing in the doorway. "Sam," he says, motioning to the girl. Dean stands up and follows her. The girl stands in the living room before disappearing. Dean enters and looks around, only to find the room empty. A noise causes him to turn around and the girl is standing in front of him. "Who are you?" The girl stares at for a second, the vanishes. A apple sits on the carpet in front of him.

* * *

Addison takes a bite of the caramel apple as she walks through the craft fair. She couldn’t deny the call of funnel cakes and caramel apples and had been more than happy to let the boys continue the research. Kids with their faces painted ran around while their parents look at the different crafts. An older woman was sitting behind a spinning wheel. Something inside Addison tells her to stop. "Decided to make your own yard instead of buy it," she amusedly says.

"Makes the finished product much better, dearie," the woman replies, grinning.

Addison nods as she takes another bite of her caramel apple. She turns and starts to walk away but stops. The same thing inside her that told her to stop was telling her to touch the spindle. So, she does. "Owe." A drop of blood forms on her finger. Addison forces a smile and walks away from the woman.

Feeling dizzy, Addison stops and looks around for a place to sit down. She frowns upon seeing a pale little girl with jet black hair and wearing a white dress was watching her. The caramel apple slips from her hand. Her eyes roll back and Addison crumples to the ground.

* * *

"Paramedics picked up Cinderella," Sam says, walking over to where Dean was sitting on the hood of the Impala. He was holding the apple that had been left in the living room.

"That's good," Dean replies, tossing the apple to Sam. "So...little girl, shiny red apple. I'm guessing that means something to you, fairytale boy?"

"I think it's Snow White."

"Snow White? Oh, I saw that movie. Well, the porn version anyway. There was this wicked stepmother. Woo, she was wicked."

Sam shakes his head. ”There is a wicked stepmother. And she tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple."

"But the apple doesn't actually kill the girl, right?"

"No. Puts her into a deep sleep, so deep it's almost like she's dead."

They climb into the Impala. Dean starts the car, then his phone rings. "Yeah," he answers. An alarmed look crosses his face causes Sam to grow concerned. Dean drops his phone on the seat and they take off down the road.

* * *

Dean rubs his face. The only noise in the room came from the heart monitor. Addison was lying on the bed, asleep. Dr. Garrison had called and said she had been brought in. "Any change," Sam asks, walking into the room.

"No," Dean answers. He picks up a file that was on the bed. "EMT reports said that she passed out from dehydration."

Sam frowns. ”Doesn't exactly sound like Addison."

"Yeah, well, but..." Dean picks up Addison's right hand. He shows the finger prick on her index finger. "Garrison thinks someone might have drugged her. Since you're the expert in fairytales, which one is this?"

"Sounds like Sleeping Beauty."

"And how do we wake the hibernating bear?"

"The Grimm tale has Sleeping Beauty sleeping for a hundred years before the prince woke her up with a kiss."

Dean smirks and presses his lips against Addison’s. He pulls back to see nothing had changed. “Well, that didn’t feel rapey at all,” he mutters, standing. He frowns and turns to Sam. “Wait, wait, wait. What if she won’t wake up until the deal with the spook? Ghost makes the fairytales real and they stay real until there’s no ghost.”

Sam nods. "Yeah. Well, I was talking with one of the nurses. There's no little girls in a coma—"

"Great."

"But there is a girl who has been here for a while. Dr. Garrison's daughter, Callie. And her room is just down the hall."

Dean squeezes Addison's hand and they walk out of the room. Callie was a young woman with pale skin and jet black hair. Dr. Garrison was sitting next to her bed, reading. "And the Huntsman stepped inside and in the bed lay the Wolf. So, the Huntsman took a pair of scissors and cut open the Wolf's belly." The brothers exchange a look. Dr. Garrison puts the book down and stands up. "Detectives. Can I help you?"

"We just...heard that Callie is your daughter," Dean says.

"And we wanted to say how very sorry we are," Sam finishes.

"Well, uh. Thank you. If you'll excuse me," Dr. Garrison replies, walking out of the room.

The brothers follow him. "Oh, heading this way? We'll walk with you," Dean says. "How long's Callie been like that?"

An unhappy look crosses Dr. Garrison's face. "We don't mean to intrude," Sam smooths overs. "We can't possibly understand how hard it must be fore you seeing her like this."

"It's not easy. She's, uh, been here since she was eight years old," Dr. Garrison confesses.

"That's when she was poisoned?"

"Yes. Swallowed bleach. Never figured out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her, uh, brought her to the ER here and I was on call."

"You're wife was, uh, was that Callie's stepmother," Dean questions.

Dr. Garrison stops and looks at them. "Actually, yes. How'd you know that?"

Dean shrugs. "Lucky guess."

"Well, Julie was the only mother that, uh, Callie ever knew. My wife passed away last year and, uh, it's just my daughter and me now. She's all I got left." A beeping interrupts. "Um, excuse me, I gotta get back to work."

Dean nods and they watch as Dr. Garrison walks down the hallway. "Well, you're right. It's Snow White in spades."

"Yep," Sam agrees as they continue through the hospital. "Stepmom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep. What's the motive you think?"

"Could be like Mischa Barton.  _Sixth Sense_  not the  _O.C._ "

"What?"

"Hey, you know fairytales, I know movies. She played the pasty ghost? You know the, uh, remember the mom had that thing you know, where you keep the kid sick so you get all the attention?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. Huh, could be."

"So, say all these years Callie's been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what mommy dearest did?"

"And after all this time her spirit just gets angrier and angrier, until it finally just starts lashing out."

"Right. Meanwhile she has to listen to Dad tell her these deranged stories about a rabid wolf or a cannibalistic old lady, it's enough to drive anybody nuts."

"Okay, but how are we gonna stop her? I mean, Callie's stuck here, her father's keeping her body alive."

"It does make it a bit hard to burn the bones."

Sam scoffs. "You think?"

The ER doors burst open. EMTs enter pushing a old woman on a stretcher. The brothers exchange a look as the EMTs and doctor work on the woman. "What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading to Callie," Dean quietly asks.

"Little Red Riding Hood." Sam takes out of the fake badge and they walk up to one of the EMTs. "Excuse me. Was she the only victim?"

"She was found by the side of the road, barely alive. Alone," the EMT explains.

"We need to find her next of kin," Dean states.

"Yeah, she has a granddaughter."

"Do you have an address?" The EMT hands over a piece of paper. "Thank you." He folds the paper up and shoves it in his pocket. "Hey, you find a way to stop Callie, all right?"

"What about you?"

"I'm gonna go stop the Big Bad Wolf," Dean answers. He pauses. "Which is the weirdest thing I've ever said."

* * *

Sam squeezes Addison's hand. He hated seeing her lying that bed. He notices Dr. Garrison walk past the room. "You're gonna be fine, Ads," Sam quietly says. He walks out of the room. "Dr. Garrison! I need to speak with you."

"Detective," Dr. Garrison greets. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, um...it's about Callie."

"My daughter? What about her?"

"You know maybe we could sit down for a minute?"

"No. What about her?"

"Okay. Well, um...all right, Doctor, this isn't gonna be easy. What happened to Callie was no an accident."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, but it's true."

"You have no idea what happened to my daughter," Dr. Garrison angrily tells him and walks away.

Sam goes after him. "There are things you don't know, Doctor, about your wife."

Dr. Garrison looks at him. "My wife?"

"Doctor, your wife poisoned Callie."

"Why would you say something so horrible to me?"

"Because I need your help."

"You stay away from me and my daughter, you understand?"

"Doctor, this isn't...please, uh—" Dr. Garrison ducks into Callie's room and shuts the door in Sam's face.

Sam sighs and enters the room. Dr. Garrison reaches for the phone on the nightstand. "I'm calling security."

Sam puts his hand over the phone. "No, listen. I don't have time to do this. If you don't listen to me more people are going to get hurt. Because Callie is going to hurt them."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"You're going to think I'm crazy but just understand me. Your daughter Callie is still here. She's a spirit."

Dr. Garrison looks at Callie with a sad expression on his face. "So, you've seen her too. I sensed her, Callie. Her presence, her scent. I even saw her standing at the foot of my bed but I never...believed it, I thought I was dreaming. I—"

"It wasn't a dream. She looks like she did when she was eight. White dress. Red ribbon in her hair. She's been trying to talk to you."

Dr. Garrison sighs. "You're not a cop are you?"

"No."

"Then who are you?"

"Someone who knows a little bit about this kind of thing."

"But what you said about my wife poisoning Callie that—"

"Sir. Callie told us."

"What," Dr. Garrison exclaims.

"Not in so many words, but in her own. She told us," Sam gently explains.

Dr. Garrison shakes his head. "My wife loved Callie. So how is — how is that possible?"

"I don't know. But it is."

"No. No, I - I don't believe you."

"Look, Callie is killing people. She's angry, she's desperate, because nobody will listen to her. So, you have to listen to her. Please, listen to your daughter," Sam begs.

Deep down, Dr. Garrison knew that Sam was right. He was holding on to something that wasn't there. He grabs Callie's hand. "Callie? Callie, it's Dad. It's me, Daddy. Is it true? Mommy do that to you? I know I wasn't listening before but I'm listening now. Daddy's here. Please honey, is there something you wanna tell me?"

"Doctor..."

Dr. Garrison looks up at Sam. Sam motions to behind Dr. Garrison and he turns around to see Callie as a little girl. "Is it true?" Callie nods. "I'm so sorry, baby. But listen to me. You gotta stop what you're doing, okay? You're hurting people. I know everything now. I know the truth. It's time for you to let go. It's time for me to let you go."

Dr. Garrison kisses Callie's forehead, then a long beep comes from the heart monitor. Sam quietly slips out of the room and walks into Addison's room. He smiles seeing Addison sitting up and looking around the room. "Ads." She looks at him and he embraces her.

Addison hugs him back. "Sam, why am I in the hospital?"

* * *

Dean ignores the glare from Addison as he opens the pudding cup that was on the tray. She rolls her eyes and snatches the cup out of his hand. "Hey," Dean exclaims, much to Sam's amusement. "Give it back, princess."

"Then you're the frog," Addison counters, grabbing the spoon off the tray.

"So, you don't remember anything," Sam asks.

"I was walking through the craft fair, then for some reason I wanted to talk to the old lady at the spinning wheel. I touched the spindle and got really dizzy, then that's it. I can't believe I got turned into Sleeping Beauty."

"You're more like a hibernating bear, Ads," Dean comments.

Addison punches his arm. He glares at her. "Go ahead and say it. I dare you."

A knock on the door causes them to turn. Dr. Garrison walks into the room. "How do you feel?"

"Great," Addison brightly answers. "I can't wait to get out of here."

"So, it's really over."

"Yeah," Sam replies. "All thanks to you."

Dr. Garrison nods. "Callie was the most important thing in my life. But I should've let her go a long time ago." He lets out a deep breath. "I'll get the nurse to bring you discharge papers."

"See ya around, Doc," Dean says.

"I sure hope not," Dr. Garrison responds before walking out of the room.

Dean turns to Sam. "You know what he said? Some good advice."

"Is that what you want me to do, Dean? Just let you go?"

Dean doesn't answer him. He stands up and slaps Addison's leg. He tosses Addison her duffel bag. "Get dressed so we can get the hell out of here when the nurse comes.” Addison watches as Dean walks out of the room before standing up. Sam was visibly upset. She rubs his arm then enters the bathroom.


	6. Red Sky At Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Addison awkwardly looks between the brothers. She had felt like she was in the middle, but had no idea what they were fighting about. Dean tightly grips the steering wheel. He glances at Sam. "So, I've been waiting since Maple Springs," Dean begins. "You got something to tell me."

Sam glances at Addison, who shrugs in response. "It's not yours or Ads' birthday."

"No."

"Happy Purim?" Dean glares at him. "Dude, I don't know. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"There's a bullet missing from the Colt." Sam looks out the window. "Do you want to tell me how that happened?" Sam doesn't say anything. "I know it wasn't me. So unless you or Addison were shooting at some incredibly evil cans..."

“Dean—"

"You went after her, didn't you? The Crossroads Demon, after I told you not to."

Sam shrugs. "Yeah, well..."

"You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"I didn't."

"And you shot her."

"She was a smart ass."

"So, what? Does that — does that mean I'm out of my deal?"

"No," Addison answers. They both glance at her. "Crossroad Demons just make the deals. Someone else owns the souls."

"You were there," Dean accuses.

"No. But I've read my dad's journal enough times—"

"Did he know who—" Sam starts.

"No."

"Well, we should find out who, of course. Our best lead would be the Crossroads Demon. Oh, wait a minute," Dean coldly replies.

"That's not funny," Sam argues.

"No, it's not! It was a stupid fucking risk and you shouldn't have done it."

"I shouldn't have done it? You're my brother, Dean. And no matter what you do, I'm gonna try and save you. And I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, all right?” The tension returns to the car. Addison could see it from the way Dean was sitting. Sam shakes his head and looks out the window. Addison sighs and lays down on the back seat.

* * *

Gertrude Case was a widow in her seventies. And Addison could see the much older woman was looking at Sam like a starving dog would look at a juicy piece of steak. "But I don't understand. I already went over all this with the other detectives," she says.

"Right, yes, uh, but see, we're with the sheriff's department, not the police department," Dean covers. "Different departments."

"So, Mrs. Case—" Sam begins.

"Ms. Case," she corrects.

Ms. Case looks Sam up and down. Sam awkwardly smiles while Dean grins with amusement. "Ms. Case," Addison says. "You were the one who found your niece, correct?"

"I came home, she was in the shower."

"Where she drowned?"

"So the coroner says. Now, you tell me, how can someone drown in a shower?"

"How would you describe Sheila's behavior in the days before her death," Sam questions. "I mean, did she seem frightened? Maybe she said something out of the ordinary?"

Ms. Case stares at Sam for a second, then a look of realization crosses her face. "Wait a minute, you're working with Alex, aren't you?"

The three of the exchange a look. "Yep, absolutely," Dean lies. "That's..." He chuckles and crosses his fingers. "Alex and us, we're like this."

"Why didn't you say so? Alex has been such a comfort. But I'm sorry. I thought the case was solved."

"Not exactly," Addison explains. "We just need to deal with some details that were left out on the paperwork."

"I see."

"So, anyways, we were talking about your niece," Sam says.

"Well, yes. Sheila mentioned something quite strange before she died. She said she saw a boat."

"A boat," Dean repeats.

"Yes, one minute it was there, then it was gone. It just disappeared right before her eyes. You think it could be a ghost ship?" The three of them exchange another look. "Alex thinks it could be a ghost ship."

"Well, uh, could be," Sam tells her.

Ms. Case nods. "Well, you let me know if there's anything else I can do for you." She runs a finger down Sam's arm. Addison looks away, trying to hold in the laughter. Sam looked clearly uncomfortable while Dean was trying to hide his amusement. "Anything at all."

Sam nods back at her. "Okay." He looks at Dean and Addison and they leave Ms. Case's waterfront home.

Addison bursts out laughing as they walk along the pier. Sam glares at her. "I can't help it," she says. "That old lady hitting on you was hilarious."

"She is a crazy, old broad," Dean comments.

"Why? Because she believes in ghosts," Sam counters.

Dean chuckles. "Look at you. Sticking up for your girlfriend, you cougar hound."

"Bite me."

"Hey, not if she bites you first. So, who's this Alex? We got another player in town?"

"Who cares," Addison responds. "Doesn't change anything about our job."

"And we're thinking ghost ship, right?"

"Yeah, it's not the first one sighted around here, either," Sam tells him.

"Really?"

"Yeah, every thirty-seven years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing three-mast clipper ship in the bag. And every thirty-seven years, a rash of weirdo, dry land drownings."

"So, whatever's happening is just getting started."

"Yeah."

"What's the lore?"

"Ghost ships are seen all over the world. Look at the Flying Dutchman, S.S. Violet, Griffin. And they're mostly considered death omens," Addison explains.

"So, what happens? You see the ship and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?"

"Uh huh."

"What's the next step?"

"We gotta I.D. the ship."

"That shouldn't be too hard. I mean, how many three mast clipper ships have wrecked off the coast?"

"I checked that, actually. Over a hundred and fifty," Sam states.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Crap."

"Uh huh," Addison says as they walk up the stairs. The Impala was supposed to be in front of them. But there was only an empty spot. They look around, confused.

Dean walks around the street. "This is where we parked the car, right?"

"I thought so."

"Where's my car?"

"Did you put money in the meter," Addison asks.

"Yes, I put money in the meter, Addison," Dean snaps. "Where's my car? Somebody stole my car!"

They watch as Dean anxiously walks around. Sam and Addison exchange a look. "Hey, hey, hey, calm down, Dean—" Sam begins.

"I am calmed down! Somebody stole my car!"

Dean bends over, breathing heavily. Addison rubs his back as Sam looks around. "Hey, take a deep breath and let it out," she softly says. "Just take it easy."

Dean stands up. Addison keeps rubbing his back, trying to provide comfort. "The '67 Impala," an accented voice asks. Addison tenses and turns around to see Bela walking towards them. "Was that yours?"

"Bela," Sam coldly greets. Addison just glares at the woman. She was still pissed that Bela had shot her, even if it turned out to be a bullet graze.

Bela smirks. "I'm sorry, I had that car towed."

"You what," Dean exclaims.

"Well, it was in a tow away zone."

"No, it wasn't!"

"It was when I finished with it."

"What the hell are you even doing here?"

Bela shrugs. "A little yachting."

Sam narrows his gaze. "You're Alex. You're working with that old lady."

"Gert's a dear old friend."

Addison scoffs. "Right. What's your angle?"

"There's no angle. There's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform seances so they can commune with their dead cats."

"And let me guess, it's all a con," Dean states. "None of it's real."

"The comfort I provide them is very real," Bela explains. She turns and starts to walk away.

"How do you sleep at night," Sam calls.

Bela glances back at them. "On silk sheets, rolling naked in money." Addison rolls her eyes at the look on Dean's face. Sam just glares at Bela. "Really, Sam, I'd expect the attitude from them. But you?"

"You shot Addison," Sam argues.

"I barely grazed her." Sam turns away, anger making it's way up. "Cute, but bit of a drama queen, yeah?"

"You do know what's going on around here," Dean points out. "This ghost ship thing, it is real."

"I'm aware. Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved by the way."

"It isn't."

"She didn't know that. Now the old bag's stopped payment and she's demanding some real answers. Look, just stay out of my way before you cause anymore trouble. And I'd get to that car if I were you, before they find the arsenal in the trunk. Ciao."

They watch as Bela walks away. "Can I shoot her," Dean asks.

"Not in public," Sam answers after a moment.

* * *

Another person had died of drowning in a strange way. It was why they were up early and making their way to the crime scene. Addison's gaze narrows as she sees Bella standing in front of Peter Warren, the latest victim's brother, with a tape recorder in his face. She pulls out her fake badge and walks up to them. "Ma'am, I think that this man has been through enough for now," she coldly tells Bella. "You should go."

"But I just have a few more questions," Bela argues, glaring back at Addison.

"No, you don't."

A silent argument passes between the two women. Dean and Sam look on. "Dude, chick fight," Dean says, grabbing Sam's arm. "Who do you think would win?"

"C'mon. Ads would win," Sam replies.

Bela turns to Peter. "Thank you for your time."

Addison waits until Bela has left. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that, Mr. Warren. Reporters can be annoying. So, a fellow officer said that you're brother saw before he drowned?"

Peter nods. "Yeah, that's right."

"Did he tell you what it looked like," Addison questions as Sam and Dean join her, flashing their badges at him.

"It was, uh...like the old Yankee clippers. A smuggling vessel, with a rakish topsail, a Barkentine rigging, angel figure on the bow."

"That's a lot of detail for a ship your brother saw," Sam points out.

"My brother and I were night diving, I saw the ship too."

Sam notices Bella talking to the officers across the driveway. He nudges Dean, who notices. "Uh, all right, well, well be in touch."

"Thank you," Dean says, leading Addison away.

"We didn’t--" Addison begins.

"Bela was talking to the cops," Sam explains.

Addison nods. "I hate her."

"Get in line," Dean responds as they reach the Impala. He opens the trunk and picks up a shotgun. Addison leans against the Impala and pulls off her heels.

"I see you got your car back."

They look to see Bela standing behind them. "Do you really want to come near me when I've got a loaded gun in my hands," Dean asks her, turning back to the trunk.

"Now, now, mind your blood pressure. Why are you even still here? You have enough to I.D. the boat."

"That guy back there saw the ship," Sam states.

"Yeah? And?"

"And he's going to die, so we have to save him."

"How sweet."

"This isn't funny," Addison says.

"He's cannon fodder. He can't be saved in time and you know it."

"Yeah, well, see we have souls, so we're gonna try," Dean counters.

"Well, I'm actually gonna find the ship and put an end to this. But you have fun."

Addison shakes her head and starts to climb into the Impala. "Hey, Bela," Dean calls. "How'd you get like this, huh? What, did Daddy not give you enough hugs or something?"

"I don't know. Your daddy give you enough," Bela counters. Dean smirks at her. "Don't you dare look down your nose at me, you're not better than I am."

"We help people."

"Come on, you do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer. Whereas I, on the other hand, I get paid to do a job and I do it. So, you tell me - which is healthier?"

"Bela, please just go away," Addison says. "We have a job to do."

"Yeah. You're zero for two. Bang up job so far," Bela responds, then walks away. Dean glares at her, then slams the trunk shut.

* * *

Addison yawns as she stretches out in the backseat of the Impala. Sam and Dean were sitting in their usual seats in the front. She holds her hand out and Sam hands her the thermos, then turns back to looking through a file. "Anything good," Dean asks.

"No, not really," Sam answers. "I mean, both brothers are Duke University grads. No criminal record. I mean, a few speeding tickets. They inherited their father's real estate fortune six years ago."

"How much?"

"$112 million."

"Damn," Addison comments.

Sam laughs. "Yeah. So, why did they see the ship? Why Sheila too? What do they all have in common?"

"Maybe nothing," Dean replies.

"There's always something," Addison says. "We just haven't found it yet."

"Hey, you!"

They look out the window to see Peter walking across his driveway, heading right towards them. "I think we've been made," Dean says.

"No shit," Addison mutters.

They climb out of the Impala. Peter was standing at the gate. "What are you doing? You watching me?"

"Sir, calm down, please," Sam says, holding up his hands.

"You guys aren't cops! Not dressed like that. Not - not in that crappy car."

"Whoa, hey. No need to get nasty," Dean says.

"Look, we are cops, okay," Sam tells Peter. "We're undercover, we're here because we think you're in danger?"

"From who," Peter questions.

"If you give us a minute, then we'll explain everything," Addison says.

Peter turns and heads towards his car. "Look, you guys just stay away from me!"

"Wait!"

Peter ignores them and gets in his car. He starts it and takes off down the driveway. "Hey, you moron, we're trying to help you," Dean shouts. Addison slaps his arm. Peter's car suddenly dies. "That can't be good."

"No," Sam agrees. "Get the salt gun." He turns to Addison and holds out his hands. She stares at him, then rolls her eyes and puts a hand on his shoulder. He helps her over the gate.

Once her feet are on the ground, Addison takes off towards the car. A man was sitting in the passenger seat, with his hand on Peter's face. She bangs on the window. "Open the door!" The man stares at her. He looked as if he drowned and his right hand was missing.

"Peter," Sam shouts, coming to a stop next to Addison. Together, they try getting the door open. Peter slumps against the steering wheel.

"Hey!" They look up to see Dean with a shotgun. They move and he fires. The man in the passenger seat disappears. Sam yanks open the door and searches for a pulse. He doesn't find one. Addison sadly sighs as Dean angrily punches the car.

* * *

Not saving Peter put a damper on everyone's moods. Addison had her eyes closed and was resting against the door. Some guy on the radio was talking about the weather. Dean turns off the radio. "Do you want to say it, Ads or should I?"

Addison looks at him, confused. "What?"

Dean nods and glances at his brother. "You can't save everybody, Sam."

"Yeah, right," Sam mutters. "So — so, what? You feel better now or what?"

"No, not really."

"Me neither."

"You got to understand—"

"It's just lately I feel like I can't save anybody," Sam confesses. Silence fills the Impala once more. Sam looks back out the window as Dean turns his attention on driving. Addison sighs and closes her eyes.

* * *

Addison glances at where Dean was sitting on the couch, staring at his phone. She and Sam were sitting at the table, with books spread out in front of them. Keeping her attention on the book in front of her, she puts a hand on his. Sam glances at her, but she doesn't look at him. A knock on the door causes her to pull her hand away. Dean gets up from the couch and walks over to the door. Sam picks his gun up and readies it under the table.

Dean opens the door and Bela walks in. Addison rolls her eyes as Sam lowers his gun. "Dear God...are you actually squatting," Bela asks, looking around. "Charming, so, how did things go last night with Peter?" Three glares are her answer. "That well, huh?"

"If you say 'I told you so,' I swear to God, I'll start swinging," Dean tells her.

"Look, I think the four of us should have a heart to heart."

"Did your heart finally grow three sizes too big," Addison asks as Dean joins them at the table.

"Cute. I'm sorry about what I said before, okay? I come bearing gifts."

"Such as," Sam questions.

"I've id the ship." The three of them exchange a look. Addison could tell that the boys hated that Bela had figured it out before them. Bela takes a folder out of her purse and puts it on the table. She puts a picture of the ship on top. "It's the Espirito Santo, a merchant sailing vessel. Quite a colorful history. In 1859, a sailor was accused of treason. He was tired aboard a ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was thirty-seven."

"Which would explain the thirty-seven year cycle," Sam points out.

"Aren't you a sharp tack," Bela responds, looking through the folder. "There's a photo of him somewhere...here."

Addison tenses when she sees a photo of the man that she saw last night. "Isn't that the customer we saw last night," Dean asks.

"You saw him?"

"Yeah, but he was missing a hand," Addison explains.

"His right hand."

Addison looks at Bela. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

"The sailor's body was cremated, but not before they cut off his hand to make a Hand of Glory."

"A hand of Glory," Dean repeats, grinning. "I think I got one of those at the end of my Thai massage last week."

Bela and Addison roll their eyes. "Dean, the right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object," Sam tells him. "It's very powerful."

"So they say," Bela comments.

"And officially counts as remains," Dean states.

"Doesn't explain why the ghost picked these victims," Addison counters.

"I'll tell you why," Bela begins. "Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing."

"I don't get it. Why are you telling us this," Dean questions.

"Because I know exactly where the hand is."

"Where?"

"At the Sea Pines Museum as a macabre bit of maritime history. But I need help."

Sam narrows his gaze. "What kind of help?" Bela smiles at them. Sam frowns, he didn't like that look.

* * *

Sam tensely smiles as he enters the museum with Ms. Case tightly gripping his arm. Ms. Case shows the invitation to the security guard, then they continue into the party. "This will get there tongues wagging, eh, my Adonis," Ms. Case says.

"Just remember, we're on business," Sam corrects.

"Oh, but sometimes business can be pleasure, hmm?"

Ms. Case's hand runs down his arm as they enter the main room. Once he feels her hand on his lower back, Sam gently grabs her hands and steps away from her. "Right, you know, uh, could you excuse me for a moment?"

“Oh—"

"Great. Thanks." Sam walks off before she can object. He spots Dean standing with Bela at the bar and joins them. "Exactly how long do you expect me to entertain my date?"

"As long as it takes," Bela answers.

"Look, there's security all over this place, all right," Dean states. "This is an uncrashable party without Gert's invitation, so..."

"We can crash anything, Dean," Sam argues.

Dean grins. "Yeah, I know. But this is easier and it's a lot more entertaining."

"You know there are limits to what I'll do, right?"

"Aw, he's playing hard to get. That's cute." He turns to Bela. "Come on." They start to walk off, but Dean turns back to Sam. "I want all the details in the morning."

Sam glares at them as they walk off. Ms. Case appears in front of him, holding two glasses of champagne. She hold them up in front of his face. Sam grabs one of them. "To us," Ms. Case toasts. Sam clinks her glass, then drowns his glass much to Ms. Case's satisfaction.

* * *

Sam drowns his fifth glass of champagne of the night. With Mrs. Case being touchy-feely all night and Dean off with Bela, he needed it. Then he spots her standing on the other side of the crowded ballroom. She wore a one shoulder, floor length emerald green gown. A simple pair of gold stud earrings completed her look. Her hair fell in soft waves down her shoulders. She notices him and smiles. "Excuse me," Sam tells Gert, then walks over to Addison. "How long have you been here?"

"About five minutes," Addison confesses. "I would've come over, but your date gave me the evil eye."

Sam glances at Gert and finds her watching them. He shakes his head in disbelief. He notices Gert start to make her way towards them. “Let’s dance.”

Addison sets her glass down on the tray of a passing waiter. "Sure."

They walk out onto the dance floor. His hand settles on the small of her back, while she places a hand on his shoulder. Their fingers intertwine as they sway to the music. "You don't know how happy I am to see you," Sam murmurs. "Mrs. Robinson keeps feeling me up."

"Pretend that it's someone else," Addison quietly replies.

"And give her more of a reason to keep groping me?" She softly laughs. "You're just as bad as Dean, you know that."

“Oh. Dean is much worse than I am.” Her lips brush the underside of his jaw. He leans down. She turns her head and his lips touch her cheek. She steps back, a smirk on her face. Addison pats his chest. "Have fun on your date." Stunned, Sam watches as she walks away.

* * *

Sam glances at Addison as he dances with Ms. Case. Addison was sitting at the bar, sipping on a martini. She smiles at him. A hand moving down his arm pulls him away from thoughts of Addison. "Where are Alex and your friend," Ms. Case asks. "They're missing a great party."

"Um, I'm, uh, I'm sure they're entertaining themselves," Sam answers.

"Oh, naughty, then I guess we'll just have to entertain ourselves as well."

Ms. Case yanks him forward and Sam jumps when she grabs his ass. "Oh, ah...you know, um, Mrs. Case, I—"

"Oh, oh no."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Case, I-I don't want to give you the wrong idea."

"Call me Gert."

"Okay."

Uncomfortable, Sam finds Addison across the room. Ms. Case lays her head on his chest. Addison laughs at him. Sam glares at her. "You remind me of my late husband." He pulls his hand out and looks at his watch. "He was shy too, 'til we got below deck."

Ms. Case brushes against him causing him to jump for a second time. He clears his throat and looks around the room. Sam locks gazes with Addison and glares when he sees the amused look on her face. Ms. Case runs a hand over his chest then lays her head back down. "Mm, you're just firm all over."

* * *

Sam sighs as he continues to dance with Ms. Case. Addison meets his gaze from where she was dancing with a much older man. She shoots him a bored look. "Man, this is one long song," he comments.

"I hope it never ends," Ms. Case admits. Sam takes a deep breath as she rubs her face on his chest. "How's the investigation going?"

"These things take time."

Ms. Cases looks up at him. "People are talking about the Warren brothers' deaths, strange...do you think it's connected to Sheila's?"

"Yeah, yeah, we think so."

"I think they had it coming, you know, in a Biblical sort of way."

Sam glances down at her. "What do you mean?"

"You know about their father."

"No."

"Come here, I'll whisper it to you." Before he has a chance to back away, she grabs his collar and pulls him down. "People say...that the old man didn't die of natural causes."

"Then how," Sam asks, forgetting about how comfortable he was.

"Rumor is the boys did it. Nothing was ever proved, but uh...people still whisper."

Sam pulls back the second after her lips touch his ear. "Okay, okay, um, so - so did, uh, did Sheila have any connection to them?"

"Well, none that I know of."

"Did Sheila have any kind of tragedy in her life?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, there was a car accident when she was a teenager."

"What happened?"

"Her car flipped over. Well, she was okay, but, uh, her cousin Brian was killed. Why? Is that important?"

Dean and Bela walk up to them before Sam has a chance to answer. "Well, having a nice time," Bela asks, taking the empty champagne glass out of Ms. Case's hand.

"He's delightful." Ms. Case leans close to Bela. "He wants me."

Dean smirks at Sam. Bela looks at them. "I'm going to get Gert into a cold shower," she whispers.

"Great idea," Sam replies.

"See you at the cemetery," Bela tells them, then walks off with Ms. Case.

Dean turns to Sam. "You stink like sex."

"You two ready to go," Addison questions, walking up to them.

“When did you get here,” Dean asks. Addison rolls her eyes and walks out of the building.

"You got it, right," Sam questions as they walk across parking lot to where Dean had parked the Impala. He pulls off his bow tie. "Tell me I didn't get groped all night by Mrs. Haversham for nothing."

"I got it," Dean answers, opening the driver's side door. They climb into the Impala. "Mrs. who?"

"Just show us the damn hand, Dean," Addison snaps. Dean reaches into his tuxedo jacket and pulls out a handkerchief. It felt different. Quickly he unwraps it. "What?"

Instead of seeing a preserved hand, there was a glass bottle with a miniature ship inside it. "I'm gonna kill her."

* * *

Addison and Sam exchange a look as they watch Dean stare at the ship in the bottle. They were going over research, trying to find another way to deal with the spirit. "You know what," Dean begins. "You're right, I'm not gonna kill her. I think slow torture's the way to go."

Dean puts the bottle on the fireplace mantle and walks over to them. "Dean, look, you got to relax," Sam tells him.

"Relax?! Oh, yeah, yeah, I'll relax. I can't believe she got another one over on us!"

"You," Addison quietly corrects.

Dean turns on her. "What?"

"She got one over on you. Not me and Sam."

"Thank you, Addison! That's very helpful!"

A knock on the door causes them to turn. "Hello, could you open up?" Dean moves over to the door with Sam and Addison behind him. He opens it to reveal Bela standing there. "Just let me explain," Bela begs.

Addison sighs. "Fine." The guys look at her, with disbelieving looks. She stares back at them. Dean reluctantly lets Bela enter.

Bela takes off her jacket and throws it on the back of the couch. "I sold it. I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed."

Sam closes the door. "So, the whole reason for us going to the charity ball was..."

"I needed a cover, you were convenient."

"Look, you sold it to a buyer, just go buy it back."

"It's halfway across the ocean, I can't get it back in time."

"In time for what," Dean asks.

Bela avoids looking at them. Sam examines her. She wasn't her usual self. "What's going on with you, Bela? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I saw the ship," Bela quietly confesses.

"You what?" Bela doesn't say anything. Dean shakes his head. "Huh, wow. You know, I knew you were an immoral, thieving, con artist bitch, but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower..."

"What are you talking about?"

"We figured out why the spirit picked the victims he did," Addison explains, grabbing the file of the table. She takes out a picture of a man. "This was the captain of the ship. He's the one who hung our ghost."

"So?"

Addison rolls her eyes. "They were brothers, Bela. So, our spirit is going after people who killed someone related to them."

"See, first there was Sheila, who killed her cousin in a car accident," Sam continues. "And the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance and now you."

"Oh my God," Bela replies.

"So, who was it, Bela," Dean interrogates. "Hmm? Who'd you kill? Was it Daddy? Your little sis, maybe?"

"It's none of your business."

"No, right. Well, have a nice life - you know whatever's left of it." Dean starts to leave the room, motioning for Sam and Addison to follow him. "Sam, Ads, let's go."

"You can't just leave me here."

"Watch us."

"Please, I need your help."

"Our help," Dean repeats. He walks over to her. "Well, now how could a couple of serial killers possibly help you?"

"Okay, that was a bit harsh, I admit it, but it doesn't warrant a death sentence."

Sam looks over at her. "That's not why you're gonna die. What did you do, Bela?"

"You wouldn't understand, no one did." Bela shakes her head and grabs her coat. "Never mind, I'll just do what I've always done. I'll deal with it myself."

Bela starts to walk out of the house. "You do realize you just sold the only thing that could save your life," Dean points out.

Bela looks at him. "I'm aware."

Addison exchanges a look with Sam. "There might be another way," she says. Dean looks at them, confused while Bela had a hopeful look on her face.

* * *

Sam watches as Addison light the candles. They were preparing for the ritual, but he had been worried about her. He had been worried ever since he figured out the ghost's motive. "You still haven't seen the ship, have you," he quietly asks.

"No," Addison softly replies. She looks at him. "I'm fine, Sam. Really."

Thunder claps. Rain suddenly pours down on them. Addison and Sam zip up their jackets. Dean was standing next to Bela. "Sammy, you better start reading," Dean shouts.

As Sam starts to chant, the candles blow out. The ghost appears behind Dean. Addison couldn't hear what anyone was saying over the rain and wind, but she saw Dean fly through the air. She starts to run over to him, but starts coughing up water. Sam glances at her in concern, but she waves for him to continue. He finishes and drops the book down. The rain and wind stop. He wraps an arm around her waist and holds her against him.

They watch as the ghost and captain of the ship talk. Then the ghost runs into his brother and they disappear in a explosion of water. Addison takes a gasping breath. Sam nods at Dean, letting him know that Addison was okay. She lets out a deep and reassuringly smiles at Sam.

* * *

Sam looks up when Addison walks into the living room. She drops her duffle bags on the floor and plops down on the couch. Dean walks down and drops his duffle bags by the door. The door opens and they turn to see Bela enter. "You three should learn to lock your doors. Anyone could just barge in,” the thief greets. Addison stands up and moves to stand by Dean.

Dean glares. “Anyone just did. You come to say goodbye or thank you?"

"I've come to settle affairs." Bela reaches into her purse a pulls a three stacks of cash. "Giving the spirit what he wanted: his own brother. Very clever. So, here." She tosses each of them a stack. "It's $15,000. That should cover it." They stare at her. "I don't like being in anyone's debt."

"So, ponying up fifteen grand is easier for you than a simple 'thank you,'" Dean questions. He shakes his head. "You're so damaged."

"Takes one to know one. Goodbye."

They watch as Bela walks out of the house. "She's got style, you gotta give her that," Sam says.

"I suppose," Dean reluctantly agrees.

"You know, Dean, we don't know where this money's been."

"No." Dean grabs the money out of Sam's hand. "But I know where it's going." Dean reaches for Addison's money, but she shoves it down her shirt. "That's not gonna—"

"Do it and I'll maim you," Addison interrupts. Sam laughs as Dean walks out of the house.

* * *

The Impala speeds down the road. Sam was looking over a map with Dean in his customary seat. Addison was stretched out in the backseat. "Seriously? Atlantic City," Sam disbelievingly asks, glancing at his brother.

"Hell yeah," Dean exclaims. "Play some roulette, always bet on black."

"Red's better," Addison comments.

Dean shrugs. Silence fills the Impala. "Hey, listen," he begins. "I've been doing some thinking and um, I want you to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the Crossroads Demon. You know, if the situation was reversed, I guess I'd have done the same thing. I mean, I'm not blind. I see what you're going through with this whole deal, me going away and all that. But you're gonna be okay. You're both gonna be okay."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, you guys will keep hunting. You know, live your lives. You're stronger than me, Sam, you are. You are, you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry. I'm sorry for putting you two through all this, I am."

"You know what, Dean? Go fuck yourself."

Dean glances at Sam, shocked. "What?"

"I don't want an apology from you. And by the way, I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself."

"Oh, well, excuse me."

"So, would you please quit worrying about me? That's the whole problem in the first place! I don't want you to worry about me, Dean. I want you to worry about you, I want you to give a shit that you're dying!"

Silence fills the Impala. Addison throws an arm over her face. This conservation had been in the making for months. And she knew it was only a matter of time before one of them pushed her to confess what she felt about the deal.

"So, that's it," Sam questions. "Nothing else to say for you?"

"I think maybe I'll play craps," Dean answers. Sam stares at him for a moment, then looks out the window. 


	7. Fresh Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Dean, Sam, and Addison jog over to where a man was lying on the ground in an alley. He was bleeding from his neck. The wound was a jagged bite mark. Addison sighs as they kneel down next to the man. "Hey, hey. Don't worry," Sam reassures. "We're gonna call you some help, okay?"

"Where is she? Where'd she go," Dean demands. The man motions down the alley and Dean takes off. Addison glances to see Sam taking out his cell phone. She tightens her grip on her machete and runs after Dean. The alley was empty, except for Dean and a blonde woman at the other end.

“Dean,” Addison softly says, moving to stand next to him.

"That's right,” Dean shouts, ignoring Addison. “Come on. I smell good, don't I? I taste even better." Dean turns to Addison. “Get out of here.”

“What? No!”

Dean moves close to her. “Get out of here, Addison.” Addison stands there for a second, then reluctantly makes her way towards the street. He lowers his arm and drops his machete. "Come on! Free lunch!"

The woman runs at him and grabs him. Teeth sink into his neck. Dean stabs the vampire with a syringe filled with dead man's blood. She lets go and drops to the ground, shaking. Addison walks over to him as Sam joins them in the alley. "What," Dean asks, seeing the disapproving look on Sam's face.

"Cutting it a little close, don't you think," Sam counters.

Dean shrugs. "Ah, that's just chum in the water. Worked, didn't it?"

Addison shakes her head. "Let's just get her back before she wakes up."

* * *

Their current motel room didn't look like one. Mattresses were pressed up against the windows; furniture was pushed to the walls. And the vampire was tied to a chair in the middle of the room with the three hunters standing in front of her. "You with us," Dean asks, seeing the vampire start to wake up. She wakes and fights against the ropes. "Oh, yeah, sorry. You're not going anywhere."

"Where's your nest," Sam asks.

"What," the vampire asks.

"Your nest," Addison repeats. "The place where you and your buddies hang out."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the vampire argues. "Please! I don't feel good."

"Yeah, well, you're gonna feel a hell of a lot worse if we give you another shot of dead man's blood."

"Just let me go."

"Yeah, we can't do that," Addison tells her.

"I'm telling you the truth. I'm just...I took something. I'm freaking out! I don't know what's going on!"

"You took something," Sam questions.

"Yes! I can't...come down. I just want to come down."

"What's your name?"

"Lucy. Please, just let me go."

"All right, Lucy, how about this? If you tell us what happened, we'll let you go."

Addison glances at Dean, then Sam. "You will," Lucy hopefully asks. Dean nods, then sends Sam a confused look. "Uh, I don't really...um, it's not that clear. I was at Spider."

"Spider," Addison questions.

"The club on Jefferson. And there was this guy...he was buying me drinks."

"And what did he look like?"

"He was old, like thirty. He had brown hair, a leather jacket...Deacon or Dixon or something. Said he was a dealer...he had something for me."

"Something," Sam asks.

"Something new. 'Better than anything you've ever tired.' He put a few drops in my drink."

"Was the drug red and thick," Dean questions and Lucy nods. "Well, genius move there. That was vampire blood he dosed you with."

A scared look crosses Lucy's face. "What?"

"You just took a big shot of the nastiest virus out there."

Lucy shakes her head. “You're crazy! He gave me roofies or something! No, the next thing I know, we're at his place and he says he's gonna get something to eat, just wait. But I got so hungry."

"So, you busted out?"

Lucy nods. "But it won't wear off...whatever he gave me."

"Lights are too bright? Sunshine hurt your skin?"

"Yeah...and the smell. And I can...hear blood pumping."

"I hate to tell you this sweetheart, but your blood's never pumping again."

"Not mine...yours. I can hear a heart beating from half a block away. I just want it to stop."

"It's not going to stop. You've already killed two people...almost three."

"No, I couldn't. I was hallucinating!"

"You killed them,” Addison tells her. "We found you by following the trail of corpses."

"No. No, it wasn't real! It was the drug! Please! Please, you have to help me!"

The three of them walk into the next room, ignoring Lucy's pleas. "Poor girl," Sam says.

"We don't have a choice," Dean reminds him. Sam nods, knowing that there was nothing they could do. Dean walks back into the main room. Addison sighs as she hears Lucy begging for mercy. Then silence.

* * *

Addison lets out a frustrated sigh as she walks out of the club with Dean and Sam. She rips the blonde wig off her head. "That was a waste of time," she mutters. "I didn't get any offers from anyone."

"You do make a horrible blonde," Dean points out.

Addison glares at him. “Fuck you.”

Dean smirks. “How about after we take care of the vamps?”

"Look, three blondes have gone missing, including Lucy, all last sighted here. I'm telling you, this is the hunting ground," Sam says, shooting Dean an annoyed look.

"Hey," Dean says. He motions to where a young blonde woman and a man enter an alley. They follow the couple and find the man holding an eye dropper above the woman's mouth. Dean grabs his arm and pulls it down, then punches him.

Sam grabs the woman's arm and pulls her away. "Get out of here! Go! Go!"

The vampire tosses Dean across the alley. Addison runs over to him. "You okay," she asks, helping him up.

"I'm good. Come on," Dean replies. The three hunters run in the direction the vampire went. They stop when they see Gordon Walker and another man. Recognition flashes through Addison mind. She remembered the man from when they had dealt with the cursed rabbit's foot a few months earlier. Shots are fired at them and they duck behind cars. Bullets hit the cars, then stop. "All right. Run. I'll draw them off."

"Are you out of your fucking mind," Addison snaps. Dean ignores her and takes off. She looks at Sam and sees a worried look on his face.

* * *

Addison watches as Sam paces around the motel room. They had made it back to the room without incident. She couldn't deny that she was worried about Dean, but she knew that despite his reckless behavior, Dean knew how to be careful. The door opens and they turn to see Dean enter the motel room. "There you are," Sam greets, relived.

"Yeah. Sorry, I stopped for a slice," Dean replies. Addison rolls her eyes. It was obvious that he wasn't sorry.

"Nice move you pulled back there, Dean, running right at the weapons."

"Well, what can I say? I'm a bad ass. So, I guess Gordon's out of jail."

"No shit," Addison says. "I think the more alarming question is how the hell did he know where to find us?"

Realization crosses Dean's face. "That bitch." Sam shoots Addison a confused look as Dean takes out his cell phone. "Hi, Bela. Question for you. When you called me yesterday, it wasn't to thank me for saving your ass, was it? Excuse me. I don't know, maybe pick up the phone and tell us that a raging psychopath was dropping by. He tried to kill us. There were two of them. Bela, if we make it out of this alive, the first thing I'm gonna do is kill you. Listen to my voice and tell me if I'm serious."

Dean snaps his phone shut and drops it on the bed. Addison sighs. "Well, that didn't solve anything," she mutters.

* * *

The only sound in the room came from Dean sharpening his machete. Sam was sitting next to him, cleaning his gun. Addison was sitting on the other bed, cleaning her gun. Hers was similar to Dean's, except it was black with mother of pearl handles. Intricate protective symbols were carved into the metal. "That vampire's still out there," Sam states.

"First things first," Dean reminds.

"Gordon."

"About that.” Dean shifts. “When we find him or if he finds us...I'm just saying he's not leaving us a whole lot of options."

"Yeah, I know. We've got to kill him.?

Addison stares at Sam. She knew that it had to be done, but she wasn't comfortable with taking another human's life. But she never expected Sam to be okay with it. "Really? Just like that," Dean disbelievingly asks. "I thought you would have been like 'No, we can't, he's human, it's wrong."

"It is wrong," Addison murmurs. Dean rolls his eyes. He had expected that from her.

"No, I'm done," Sam tells them. "Gordon's not gonna stop until we're dead...or until he is."

Dean's phone suddenly rings. An angry look crosses his face as he reads the caller id. "What," he snaps. Addison raises an eyebrow when his anger disappears. "You're a hundred miles away. How the hell did you...And?" He flips his phone shut and stands up. "Killing Bela is off the to do list. For now."

* * *

It had been easy to find the warehouse that Bela told Dean about. The neon sign hanging on the building made it easier to find. As Dean, Addison, and Sam search the warehouse, they come across three headless bodies hanging from the ceiling. A man was kneeling in front of them. Dean pulls out his machete and steps towards him. "Go head," the man says. His tone was devoid of emotion. "Do it. Kill me."

"What happened," Addison asks, shooting Dean a look.

"Gordon Walker. I never should have brought a hunter here. Never. I just — I just wanted some kind of revenge. Stupid...exposing him to my family."

"Oh, yeah, you're such a family man," Dean retorts.

The vampires stands up and glares at Dean. "You don't understand."

"I don't want to understand, you son of—"

"I was desperate. You ever felt desperate? I've lost everyone I ever loved. I'm staring down eternity alone. Can you think of a worse hell?"

"Well, there's Hell."

"I wasn't thinking. I just...I didn't care anymore. Do you know what it's like when you just don't give a damn? It's like — it's like being dead already. So, just go ahead. Do it."

"Addison, Dean," Sam calls. They turn to see him inspecting the bodies. They join him. "Head wasn't cut off, it was ripped off. With someone's bare hands."

The pieces suddenly click in Addison's head. "Son of bitch," she exclaims.

"What," Dean questions, exchanging a confused look with Sam.

Addison glares at the vampire. "You turned him, didn't you?" The vampire avoids their questioning gazes. "We are so screwed."

* * *

“We need to go somewhere warm,” Addison mutters as she pulls her coat closer. Dean glances at her from his spot behind the steering wheel. They had split up from Sam to search Albany for any sign of Gordon.

Dean drops a hand onto her thigh. “We need a case in South Beach.”

“Definitely.”

“As my dying wish, we need a case in South Beach.”

Addison laughs. “Yeah, I’ll get to work on that.”

After arriving back at the motel, they climb out of the Impala and walks into the motel room. Dean takes off his jacket and tosses it on the bed. "Man, we must have checked three dozen motels, empty buildings, warehouses."

“Yeah, me too,” Sam replies. “Big city.”

Dean moves over to the sink and rinses his face. "It's like a giant haystack and Gordon's a deadly needle. We're running out of daylight. Won't have the sun slowing him down."

"Yeah, he'll be unstoppable," Sam agrees. "Hey, give me your phones."

"Why," Addison questions, holding her iPhone to her chest.

"If Gordon knows our cell numbers he can use the cell signal to track us down."

Dean shrugs and hands over his phone. Sam looks at Addison. "I'll turn it off." With an apologetic look on his face, Sam pulls the phone out of her grasp. She looks away as he stops on the phones.

"Stay here," Dean says, walking over to the weapons bag.

"Wait, where are you going," Addison questions.

Dean pulls the Colt out. "I'm going after Gordon."

"What," Sam asks.

"You heard me."

"Not alone, you're not," Sam argues.

"Sam, I don't need you to sign me a permission slip, okay? He's after you, not me or Addison, and he's turbocharged. I want you to stay out of harm's way. I'll take care of it."

"You're not going by yourself, you're gonna get killed."

"Just another day at the office." Addison scoffs and Dean shrugs. "A massively dangerous day at the office."

"So, you're the guy with nothing to lose now, huh? Oh wait, let me guess. Because, uh, it's because you're already dead, right?"

"If the shoe fits."

"You know what? I'm sick and tired of your kamikaze trip."

"Whoa, whoa, kamikaze? I'm more like a ninja."

"That's not funny."

"It's a little funny."

"No, it's not."

"What do you want me to do, Sam, huh? Sit around all day writing sad poems about how I'm gonna die? You know what? I got one. Let's see, what rhymes with 'Shut up, Sam?’"

"Drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid."

"I'm not!"

"You're lying. You may as well drop it cause I can see right through you."

"You got no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out and you're still going to Hell and you're freaked."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I know you," Sam exclaims.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. The only person who comes close to knowing you like I do is Addison. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And I mean, I can't blame you. It's just..."

"What?"

"I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. Cause...just cause."

"All right," Dean says after a moment. He looks at Addison and he knew with the look on her face that she felt the same way as Sam. "We'll hole up, cover our scent so he can't track us and wait the night out here."

Nothing is really said as they barricade the motel room. Addison and Sam keep to themselves when Dean goes to pick up new cell phones. She didn't know what to say, while his mind was occupied. Addison holds up a piece of wood across the door as Dean nails it. Sam was performing the ritual to cover up their scent. A phone rings and Addison looks at Dean. "You're already giving your number to random bar chicks," Addison disbelievingly asks.

"No," Dean replies. "Hello?" He glares as Addison leans in to hear. "How'd you get this number? I guess you'll just have to find us. What's the matter, Gordo? You're not afraid of us, are you? We're just sitting here. Bring it on!"

"What are you doing," Addison hisses.

Anger appears on Dean's face. "Gordon, let the girl go. Gordon! Don't do this. You don't kill innocent people. You're still a hunter." He snaps his phone shut. “Damn it."

* * *

Addison grips the machete as she, Sam, and Dean walk into the factory. She didn't like the idea of going after Gordon. In fact, she was positively terrified of running into the hunter turned vampire. But she pushed all the fear away. She had to. But she can't help the uneasiness that creeps up when they find the girl Gordon had taken so easily. "Hey, we got you," Sam comforts, untying the sobbing girl. "Don't worry. We're gonna get you out of here."

Dean picks up the girl. "Sam, Ads, stay close."

Sam takes the rear leaving Addison in the middle. The second she enters a different room, the door closes behind her. "Sam," she shouts, banging on the door.

"Addison! Dean," Sam replies, banging on the door.

Dean sets the girl down and joins Addison. "Damn it, Sam," he mutters.

"It's not exactly his fault, Dean," Addison counters.

"I told him to stay close."

"And Gordon would've done anything to get Sam alone." Dean shakes his head, a grim smile on his face. Addison glares at him. "What?"

“You’re hot when you’re pissed.”

"There's a vamped out Gordon in the next room, Dean," Addison reminds him.

Dean nods. He examines the door and finds the chain locked. "We need to break this lock." She holds up her machete. He stares at her. Addison rolls her eyes and searches the factory.

Suddenly, Dean is tackled to the ground. The girl they had rescued bares a set of vampire teeth at him. Then the girl's head is on the ground next to him. Addison smirks at him. "You being the damsel in distress is like old times."

He pushes the body off of him and stands up. "Shut up."

"Well, fine, then I won't tell you where the other door I found is."

He glares at her, but follows her to the door. Addison pushes it open and they enter the dark room. Dean silently walks up behind Gordon. He raises the Colt and aims it at Gordon's head. But Gordon grabs Dean and flings him across the room. Addison steps back when he turns his gaze on her. She takes off and he goes after. Her screams are muffled as he bites her neck.

The grip Gordon has on her is gone and Addison falls to the ground. She rolls over and watches as Sam and Gordon fight. Her gaze widens as Sam wraps barbed wire around Gordon's neck. With all his strength, Sam pulls on the wire. Addison's unable to tear her gaze away. The sound of Gordon's head hitting the ground causes her to look up at Sam.

Neither of them move as Dean walks over to them. "You just charged a super vamped out Gordon with no weapon," he states. "That's a little reckless, don't you think?" Sam shrugs, finally looking away from Addison. Dean kneels down and helps Addison up. "Looks like you're back to being the damsel in distress, Ads.”

* * *

“Owe,” Addison snaps as Sam cleans the bite mark on her neck. They were parked off the side of a back county road. Dean was under the hood, trying to figure out where a rattle was coming from within the Impala’s engine. He glances over to where Addison was sitting on the cooler with Sam standing behind her. “How’s it look?”

“You’ll be fine in a few weeks,” Sam replies, placing a bandage on her neck.

“I feel like I need to get a tetanus shot,” Addison mutters, standing up. She opens the cooler and grabs a beer before moving over to the towel she had spread out on the ground.

Sam grabs a couple of beers out of the cooler and walks over to Dean. “Here you go,” he says, handing Dean a beer.

“Thanks,” Dean says. His glances as Addison as she pulls off her tank top, leaving her in a black bra and jeans.

“Figure out what’s making that rattle,” Sam asks and Dean looks at his younger brother.

“Not yet. Give me a box wrench, would you?”

“Yeah.” Sam grabs a wrench out of the toolbox next to Dean’s feet. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Dean replies and Sam takes a seat on the cooler. “Sam.”

“Wrong one?”

“No, no, no, come here for a second.”

Confused, Sam gets up and joins Dean at the hood. “Yeah.”

“This rattle could be a couple of things. I’m thinking it’s an out of tune carb,” Dean explains, motioning to the engine.

“Okay,” Sam confusedly says.

“All right, see this thing? It’s a valve cover. Inside are all the parts that are on the head. Hand me that socket wrench.” Sam grabs the socket wrench and hands it to him. “All right, you with me so far?”

“Yeah, uh, valve cover covers the heads.”

“Very good. Now this is your intake manifold, okay, and on top of it?”

Sam smiles. “It’s, uh, uh, a carburetor.”

“Carburetor.”

“Yeah.”

“Very good.”

“What’s with the auto shop,” Sam asks as Dean holds out the socket wrench. “What, you don’t mean you want—”

“Yeah, I do. You fix it.”

“Dean, you barely let me drive this thing.”

“Well, it’s time. You should know how to fix it. You’re gonna need to know these things for the future. And besides, that’s my job, right? Show my little brother the ropes?” Sam nods and takes the socket wrench. It was clear that he was moved by what Dean was doing. “Put your shoulder into it,” Dean says as he moves over to the cooler. He sits down and his gaze goes between watching Sam work on the Impala and watching Addison stretched out on the ground, tanning. And for the first time in a long time, Dean felt content.


	8. A Very Supernatural Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I do own the original characters.

Addison and Dean were standing on the front porch talking to Mrs. Walsh about the disappearance of her husband. Addison glances at the little girl standing by the window, watching them. "Um...my daughter and I were in our beds. Mike was downstairs, decorating the tree. I heard a thump on the roof and then I...I heard Mike scream. And now I'm talking to the FBI," Mrs. Walsh explains to them.

"Did you see anything," Addison softly asks her.

"No, he was...he was just gone."

"The doors were locked? There was no forced entry," Dean asks.

"Yeah, that's right."

"Does any one else have a key to enter your house," Addison asks.

"My parents."

"Where do they live," Dean asks.

"Florida," Mrs. Walsh answers as Sam exits the house.

"Thanks for letting me have a look around, Mrs. Walsh. I think we, uh, got just about everything we need," Sam says, moving to stand in between Addison and Dean. "We're all set."

"We'll be in touch," Dean tells Mrs. Walsh. They start to walk over to where the Impala was parked.

"Agents," Mrs. Walsh calls and they turn back to her. "The...the police said my husband might have been kidnapped."

"Could be."

"Then why haven't the kidnappers called? Or - or - or demanded a ransom? It's three days until Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?"

"We're sorry," Addison softly tells her and they continue walking away.

"Find anything," Dean asks Sam.

"Stockings, mistletoe," Sam answers and pulls something out of his pocket. "This."

"Is that a tooth," Addison questions, taking a closer at the tooth.

"Where was this," Dean asks.

"In the chimney," Sam answers.

"Chimney? No way a man fits up a chimney, it's too narrow."

"He's not going to go up in one piece," Addison comments.

"Alright. So if Dad went up the chimney..." Dean begins.

"We need to find out what dragged him up there," Sam finishes.

* * *

Sam eyes as Addison searches her weapons bag. It was a small black bag that neither he nor Dean ever opened, especially since most of her weapons had ended up being mixed in with his and Dean's. She straightens up and sits back down at the table. He watches as she puts on a bright pink Santa hat. She notice the look on his face. "It's Christmas, Sam. Be merry."

He shakes his head and turns back to researching. The motel door opens and Dean walks in, carrying a paper bag. "Hey, Slutty Santa is back,” Dean says, smirking. Addison rolls her eyes, but a smile was on her face. "So, was I right? Is it the serial killing chimney sweep?"

"Yep. It's, uh, it's actually Dick van Dyke," Sam answers and a confused look crosses Dean's face.

"Who?"

"He was in Mary Poppins," Addison says and Dean stares at her.

"What is that?"

"It's a Disney movie."

Dean shrugs. "Turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month."

"The other guy get dragged up the chimney too," Sam questions.

"Don't know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof," Dean explains, sitting down next to Addison. "So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?"

"Actually, I have an idea."

"A crazy idea," Addison comments.

"What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to me," Dean asks Sam.

"Um, Evil Santa," Sam answers and Dean looks at her. Addison nods and closes her computer.

"Yeah, that's crazy."

"Yeah. I mean, I'm just saying that there's some version of the anti-Claus in every culture. You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter…"

"Snow Miser and Heat Miser," Addison adds.

"Whatever you want to call it, there's all sort of lore," Sam continues, ignoring her.

"Saying what," Dean asks.

"That Santa's brother went to the dark side and instead of bringing presents for all the good boys and girls, he punishes the ones on the naughty list," Addison explains.

"By hauling their ass up chimneys?"

"For starters, yeah," Sam answers.

"So this is your theory, huh? Santa's shady brother?"

"Well, I - just saying, that's what the lore says."

"Santa doesn't have a brother. There's no Santa."

"What do you mean there's no Santa," Addison asks Dean and they both look at her. "Just because you haven't seen Santa, doesn't mean that there isn't a workshop in the North Pole with toys being made by elves."

"I could be wrong. I got to be wrong," Sam says after a minute.

"Maybe. Maybe not," Dean replies.

"What do you mean," Addison asks.

"I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched," Dean tells them.

"Where?"

* * *

Addison looks around the Santa's Village and frowns. There was no snow on the ground and only a few visitors. Even the employees had that look on their face saying that they didn't want to be there. "It does kind of lend credence to the theory, don't it," Dean asks them and she looks at him.

"This place is like a depressed Christmas," Addison replies.

"Yeah, but...anti-Claus," Sam says, shaking his head. "Couldn't be."

"It's a Christmas miracle. Hey, speaking of. We should have one this year," Dean tells him.

"Have one what?"

"A Christmas."

"No thanks."

"No, we'll get a tree. A little Boston Market. Just like when we were little."

Sam sighs. "Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know."

"What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases."

"Whose childhood are you talking about?"

"Aw come on, Sam."

"No. Just...no."

Dean stares at Sam for a moment. “All right, Grinch."

Addison's gaze stays on Dean, then she glances at Sam. She shakes her head and looks around. She understood where both of them were coming from, but had no desire to be caught in the middle. "This place sucks," she comments.

"You'd think with the ten bucks it costs to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow."

Addison turns to Sam and finds him daydreaming. She waves a hand in front of his face and Sam looks at her. "What?"

"What are we looking for," she questions.

"Um...lore says that the anti Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets," Sam explains.

"Great. So, we're looking for a pimp Santa," Dean replies as they walk around. "Why the sweets?"

"Think about it. If you smell like candy the kids will come closer, you know?"

Addison shakes her head. "Creepy."

"How does this thing know who's been naughty and who's been nice," Dean asks.

"I don't know," Sam confesses.

"The same way Santa knows," Addison suggests. They look at her. "He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake. He knows when you've been bad or good."

“All right, Christmas freak," Dean says. She glares at him and punches his arm. They reach a fake house with Santa sitting outside of it.

Addison raises an eyebrow as a young boy climbs into Santa's lap. To her, the Santa was the opposite of the Santa's that her father had taken to see in the malls as a kid. A young woman dressed as an elf walks up to them. "Welcome to Santa's Court," the elf cheerily greets. "Can I escort your child to Santa?"

The three of them exchange a look. "No. No. Uh...but actually my brother here," Dean replies, smirking. He places a hand on Sam's shoulder. "It's been a lifelong dream of his."

The elf frowns. "Uh, sorry. No kids over...twelve."

"No, he's just kidding. We only came here to watch," Sam explains. The look the elf gives him causes Addison bite her lip to hold back the laughter. The elf walks away. "Ah...I - I didn't mean that we came here to wa..." He glares at Dean, who innocently smiles back. "Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that."

Addison shakes her head in amusement. Then she notices Santa stand up. "Guys," she says, motioning to the Santa. They watch as he walks with a limp. The Santa passes him and they smell the sweets coming from him.

"Are you two seeing this," Dean quietly asks.

"A lot of people walk with limps," Sam counters. "Right?"

"Tell me you didn't smell that. That was candy."

"Could've been peppermint schnapps," Addison suggests.

"Maybe. We will willing to take that chance," Dean questions. Addison shrugs. She was skeptical of an evil Santa. Reluctantly, Sam nods in agreement.

* * *

Addison yawns as she pulls her pea coat closer. They were staking out Santa's house, which was a trailer not far from the winter village. She grabs the thermos and pours herself a cup of coffee. "What time is it," Dean asks, yawning.

"Five seconds after you asked last time," Addison tiredly answers. Seeing him rub his face, she hands him the thermos.

Dean starts to pour himself a cup only to find the thermos empty. "Wonderful." He sets the thermos on the seat next to him. "Hey, Sam."

"Yeah," Sam asks, looking at him.

"Why are you the boy who hates Christmas?"

Sam turns his gaze out of the window. "Dean..."

"I mean, I admit it, you know? We had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids."

"Bumpy?"

"Wait, what about the Christmas you guys spent with me and my dad when we were sixteen," Addison says, looking between them.

Dean grins. "That was a fun Christmas."

"Look, guys. If you want to have Christmas knock yourselves out. Just don't involve me," Sam tells them.

"Oh yeah, that'd be great," Dean scoffs. "Me and Ads and cranberry molds." He looks out the window and sits up. Santa looks out the windows, then closes the curtains. "What's up with a saint nicotine?"

A woman screams. The three of them climb out of the Impala and run up to the door. Guns are drawn and cocked. Sam scoffs. Addison and Dean exchange a confused look. "What," they ask.

"Nothing," Sam replies. "It's just that uh...well, you know Mr and Miss. Gung-Ho Christmas might have to blow away Santa."

The two stare at each other for a second, then shrug. Dean opens the door and they enter the trailer. Santa was sitting in front of a TV with a half empty bottle of whiskey in his lap. He stands up as they hide their guns. "The hell are you doing here, huh?"

Dean looks at Sam and Addison. "Silent night," he awkwardly sings. Addison raises an eyebrow.

"Holy night," Addison and Sam sing. "All is calm."

Santa laughs and flops down in his arm chair. "All is bright," he drunkenly sings.

"Round yon Virgin Mother and Child," Addison sings. Sam wraps a hand around her arm. He motions to the door. "Holy infant so tender and mild." He drags out of the trailer with Dean right behind them.

_"Last Christmas, I gave you my heart," Addison sings, entering the kitchen of the small apartment. Dean glances at Sam, who shrugs and turns his attention back to the TV. "But the very next day you gave it away, this year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special."_

_Dean stands up and walks into the kitchen. "Addison, shut up."_

_She glares at him. "No." He traps her between his body and the counter. Addison's gaze darts to the living room before looking at him. "Sam's in the living room," she quietly says._

_Dean shrugs. His hand slides under her t-shirt. "Then we'll go into your room and hang out under the mistletoe." She rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless._

"So, that's how your son described the attack," Dean asks. While they had been dealing with a drunk Santa the night before, another person been taken. Currently, they were talking to Mrs. Caldwell, the latest victim's wife. "Santa took Daddy up the chimney?"

Mrs. Caldwell nods. Her face was bruised. "That's what he says, yes."

"And you were where," Addison asks.

"I was asleep. And all of a sudden, Al was being dragged out of bed, screaming."

"Did you see the attack," Sam questions.

Mrs. Caldwell shakes her head. "It was dark and he hit me. He knocked me out."

Addison gives her a sympathetic smile. "We know this is hard—"

"Um, Mrs. Caldwell, where did you get that wreath above the fireplace," Sam asks. Dean and Addison glance at him, with equally confused looks. He nods at the wreath. Addison frowns. She had seen that wreath before.

"Excuse me," Mrs. Caldwell replies.

"Just curious, you know."

"The arts and crafts store on fifth and Maine."

"Thank you. We'll let you know if we find anything."

Dean awkwardly smiles at Mrs. Caldwell as they walk out of her house. "Wreaths, huh," he says. "Sure you didn't wanna ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer."

"We've seen that wreath before, Dean."

"Where?"

"At the Walsh's," Addison answers.

Sam smiles at Addison and she smiles back. Dean shrugs. "I know," he says. "I was just testing you."

"Bullshit."

_Addison quietly enters the dark living room. Dean soundly slept on the couch. The cold winter air surrounded them. She pulls back the thick blanket that was covering him and straddles Dean's waist. He instantly wakes up and she smiles. "You have to be quiet," Addison softly says._

_"What are you doing," Dean quietly asks._

_"You're really asking me that, Dean?"_

_"And what if our dads decide to come back early? You’re—"_

_"They're not coming back for a couple of days at least. So, we can either do it in here or in my room. Your pick." Dean grabs her by the waist and carefully flips them over. Addison pulls him into a kiss. Her hands go to the bottom of the t-shirt he was wearing and he breaks away to take it off. His captures her lips in soft kiss. He unbuttons the flannel top she was wearing and pushes it to the sides. Dean starts moving down, his lips never leaving her soft skin._

_They both freeze when a loud bang comes from the door. Addison shoves him off of her and sits up, quickly buttoning her top. She grabs the remote off of the coffee table and turns on the TV. The door opens and they turn to see Patrick enter. "Hey, Dad," Addison brightly greets._

_Patrick Sloan was a tall man with jet black hair. "What are you two doing still up," Patrick asks, taking off his heavy winter coat._

_"We couldn't sleep, so me and Dean decided to watch TV."_

_"Where's my dad," Dean asks, still sitting on the floor._

_"He found another hunt, Dean. Decided to go do it. So, you and Sam get to spend Christmas with me and Ads this year," Patrick explains. He motions for Addison to get up and she does. "Come on, it's time for bed."_

_Addison hugs Patrick and kisses his cheek. "Night, Daddy." She gives Dean a smile. "Night, Dean."_

_"Good night," Dean replies and watches as she disappears down the hallway._

_"Dean, go push Sam to the side and go to bed," Patrick orders and Dean nods. He grabs his shirt and follows in the direction of Addison._

_"Hey." Dean turns and sees Addison standing in the doorway of her room. He glances back to the living room and sees Patrick occupied. He moves over to Addison and gives her a quick kiss. They both enter their respective rooms and quietly close the doors, neither of them noticing Patrick silently watching._

Feeling a gaze on her, Addison looks up from the book to find Dean staring at her. She was sitting next to him on the couch while Sam talked on the phone to Bobby. "What," she asks, growing annoyed.

"That Christmas when we were sixteen," Dean begins.

"Yeah?"

"We should recreate that."

“What? No."

"It's my dying wish, Ads.”

“And my answer is still no, Dean. And there is nothing you can do or say to make me change my mind."

"Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks, Bobby," Sam says, sitting down at the table. "Well, we're not dealing with the Anti-Claus."

"What did Bobby say," Dean questions.

"Uh, that we're morons. He also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths."

"Wow. Amazing. What the hell is meadowsweet?"

"It's some kind of plant, right," Addison replies, looking at Sam.

"Yeah. It's pretty rare and probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore," Sam explains.

"Pagan lore," Dean repeats.

"Yeah. See, they use meadowsweet for human sacrifices. It was kind of like chum for their gods. Gods were drawn to it, they'd stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human."

"Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?"

"It's not so crazy as it sounds, Dean. I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan."

"Christmas is Jesus' birthday."

"No, Jesus' birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the church and renamed 'Christmas'. But I mean, the yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit, that's all remnants of pagan worship."

"How do you know that," Dean asks, standing up. "What'll you tell me next? East bunny's Jewish?"

"Pretty sure the Easter bunny is American," Addison amusedly says. "And it's true. Halloween came from a Celtic tradition."

"So, you think we're dealing with a pagan god?"

"Yeah, probably Holdenacar — god of the winter solstice," Sam answers.

"And all these Martha Stewart wannabes buying these fancy wreaths."

"Yup, it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying: 'come kill us.'"

"Lovely," Addison comments as Sam sits down next to her on the couch. He picks up one of the books on the coffee table and looks through. He scoffs. "What?"

"When you sacrifice to Holdenacar, guess what he gives you in return?"

"Lap dances, hopefully," Dean guesses.

"Mild weather."

"Like how there's no snow in Michigan when it's almost Christmas," Addison reason.

"For instance."

"So, how do we kill it?"

Sam shrugs. "No idea. Bobby's working on that now. We gotta figure whose selling those wreaths."

"Think they're selling them on purpose? Feeding the victims to this thing," Dean questions.

Addison stands up. "Well, Mrs. Caldwell said that she got hers at a craft store. We should start there."

* * *

Addison and the boys enter the craft shop to the scent of gingerbread and cinnamon. Christmas music playing from a small radio behind the counter. She smiles and picks up a small figurine of Santa. Feeling someone watching her, Addison turns to see Dean staring at her. He smirks and she rolls her eyes, setting the figurine down. As she walks up to the counter with Sam, Dean throws his arm around her shoulders. She casts him confused look and he pulls her against his side. "Can I help you," the man behind the counter asks. He was a middle-aged portly man, but seemed happy to be there.

"I hope so," Dean replies. "Me and the wife were playing jenga over at the Walsh's the other night and uh...well, she hasn't shut up since about this Christmas wreath. I don't know..." He turns to Addison. The look in her eyes was one that would've sent him to Hell early if looks could kill. "Honey, you tell him."

With a bright smile, Addison turns to the man. "It was the most beautiful wreath I've ever seen."

"I sell a lot of wreaths," the man tells her.

"But this one was so pretty. It had green leaves with white buds and I think it might have been made of meadowsweet."

"Well, aren't you a fussy one."

"Oh, she is," Dean says before Addison can reply. She glares at him.

"Anyway, I know the one you're talking about. I'm all out."

"Huh. Seems like this meadowsweet stuff's rare and expensive. Why make wreaths out of it?"

"Beats me. I didn't make them."

"Who did?"

"Madge Carrigan, a local lady. Said the wreaths were so special, she gave them to me for free."

"She didn't charge you," Sam questions.

"Nope."

"Did you sell them for free," Dean asks.

"Hell no, it's Christmas. People play a butt load for this crap."

Dean grins. "That's the spirit."

* * *

Sam follows Addison and Dean into their motel room. He had been waiting for Addison to either yell or hit Dean for what happened in the craft store. Besides a couple of dirty looks, she hadn't done anything. "How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath really cost," Dean asks, tossing his jacket on his bed.

"Couple hundred bucks, at least," Addison replies, sitting on Sam's bed

"This lady's giving them away for free? What do you think about that?"

Sam sighs, sitting down next to Addison. "Well, I'd say it's pretty suspicious." He puts his head in his hands and groans in frustration. Feeling someone rub his back, he looks to see Addison softly smiling at him.

Dean grins. "Remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?"

"You mean the one he stole from like a liquor store?"

"Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked hard enough, I could probably find one just like it.

"All right. Dude, what's going on with you?"

"What," Dean asks, confused.

"I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you wanna have Christmas so bad?"

"Why are you so against it? Were your childhood memories that traumatic?"

"No, that has nothing to do with it."

"Then what?"

"I mean, I - I just - I don't get it. You haven't talked about Christmas until this year."

The grin on Dean's face fade. "Well, yeah. This is my last year."

Addison looks down. For her, she just wanted to celebrate a holiday with the two most important people in her life. "I know," Sam replies. "That's why I can't."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I can't...just sit around...drinking eggnog pretending everything's okay...when I know next Christmas you'll be dead. I just can't." Dean nods in understanding and a silence settles over them.

* * *

The Carrigan house looked like every other house on the street. Christmas decorations littered the lawn and lights were hanging from the porch roof. "So, this is where Mrs. Wreath lives, huh," Dean says, climbing out of the Impala. "Boy, can't you just feel the evil, pagan vibe?"

Addison rolls her eyes and walks up to the front door with Dean. She presses the doorbell and after a moment a middle aged blonde woman answers. "Yes," she cheerily greets.

"Please tell us you're the Madge Carrigan that makes the meadowsweet wreaths."

"Why, yes I am."

Dean grins at Addison. "Great. We were just admiring one of your wreath's at Mr. Silar's home the other day," Addison says.

"You were? Well, isn't that meadowsweet the finest smelling thing you ever smelled?"

"It is," Sam answers. "It sure is. But see the problem is, is that all of your wreaths had sold out before we got the chance to buy one."

"Oh, fudge."

"You wouldn't happen to have another that we could buy from you, would you," Dean asks.

"Oh, no. I'm afraid those were the only ones I had for this season."

They see a man wearing a sweater and holding a pipe walk down the stairs. "I really wanted one of those," Addison pouts.

"Tell me something," Dean begins. "Why'd you decide to make them out of meadowsweet?"

"Why, the smell, of course. I don't think I've ever smelled anything finer," Mrs. Carrigan explains.

"Yeah. Um...you mentioned that," Sam points out.

The man appears behind his wife. "What's going on, honey?"

"Well, just some nice folks, asking about my wreaths, dear," Mrs. Carrigan says.

"Oh, the wreaths are fine. Fine wreaths. Oh." Mr. Carrigan holds out a box filled with food. "Care for some peanut brittle?"

"I have a peanut allergy," Addison apologetically says. Sam glances at Dean to see a look of remembrance on his face.

* * *

Addison plops down on the couch next to Sam, who was researching. Dean was sitting on the bed, making stakes. "I knew it," Sam exclaims. "Something was way off with those two."

"What," Addison questions.

"Carrigans lived in Seattle last year where two abductions took place right around Christmas. They moved here January. All that Christmas crap in their house, that wasn't boughs of holly, it was vervain and mint."

"Pagan stuff," Dean asks.

"Serious pagan stuff."

"So what? Ozzie and Harriet are keeping a pagan god hidden underneath their plastic covered couch?"

"Who knows," Addison replies. "We just gotta check out their house. Is Bobby sure that evergreen stakes will kill it?"

"Yeah, he's sure." Sam closes his laptop and walks into the bathroom. "Have you changed your mind about my dying wish," Dean asks.

Addison sighs. "Dean, you're my best friend. But I'm not changing my mind. Besides, why would you want recreate that Christmas? Especially after what my dad did." Dean shrugs and turns back to sharpening the stakes.

_"Ads, I need you to go to the store and get some stuff," Patrick says, drying his hands on a dishtowel. He takes out a list and some money, handing it to Addison. "Sam, why don't you go with her?"_

_"I can go with Addison," Dean says._

_"No. I need your help with something."_

_Addison glances between Dean and Patrick. She nods. "Okay." She walks out of the kitchen. "Sam! Come on!"_

_Patrick waits until the apartment door opens and closes. He opens a closet door and takes out an axe. He turns to Dean. "Get your coat," Patrick orders and Dean silently pulls on his leather jacket. They spend fifteen minutes walking through the forest behind the apartment building. They stop and Patrick turns to Dean, pointing the axe at him. "I'm only gonna say this once, Dean, so you better listen. You ever think about touching my daughter in a way that isn't just friends, a damn spirit is going to be the least of your worries. You got that?"_

_"Yes, sir," Dean replies._

_Patrick smiles and holds out the axe to Dean. "Take it." Dean takes the axe, relived, and Patrick motions to the medium size evergreen tree. "That's our Christmas tree. Chop it down and bring it back to the apartment."_

_"Yes, sir," Dean repeats and Patrick nods before walking away. He swings the axe at the tree and the axe gets stuck in the tree. "Son of a bitch!"_

They climb out of the Impala. Dean grabs the stakes out of the trunk and they walk up to the front door. They could hear Christmas music coming from inside the Carrigans' house. Dean picks the lock out as Sam pulls out stakes from the bag. They enter the house and walk into the living room. Dean touches the couch and feels the plastic. "See, plastic," Dean whispers.

Addison rolls her eyes. The living room was covered in Christmas decorations. Everywhere she looked, there was some kind of decoration. The kitchen was the same except with food all over the place. Sam's flashlight lands on a door and there's two locks on it. "Hey," he says.

After picking the locks, they open the door and walk down into the basement. Addison shines a flashlight around and sees bloodied bones on a counter. She joins Sam and sees him examining a dark red coat hanging from the ceiling. A bag was hanging next to a wall. She walks over and finds blood stains on the wall. Her arm brushes against the bag and she jumps when a noise comes from it. Addison backs up and hits something. She turns around to see Mr. Carrigan. She raises her stake, but he grabs her throat and she drops it. He throws her across the room basement and she hits the wall.

* * *

Her head was pounding. She could hear voices calling her name. Slowly, Addison opens her eyes. She was in the kitchen of the Carrigan house. She tries to stand up, but realizes that she's tied to a chair. "Addison." She looks to the right and sees Sam and Dean tied up. "Ads, are you okay," Sam asks.

"Well, except for my head, I'm fine," Addison answers, smiling at him.

Sam smiles back at her, then sighs. "So, I guess we're dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God. Nice to know."

"Yeah," Dean replies.

The door opens and the Carrigans walk into. "Oh, and here we thought you three lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff," Mrs. Carrigan brightly says.

"And miss all this? Nah, we're partiers."

"Isn't he a kick in the pants, honey," Mr. Carrigan happily says to his wife. "You're hunters, is what you are."

"Yeah and you're pagan gods. So, why don't we call it even and go our separate ways

"What? So you can bring back more hunters and kill us?" Mr. Carrigan laughs. "I don't think so."

"Then you should've thought about that before eating people," Addison counters.

"Oh, now, don't get all wet."

"Why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year. And that's a fact," Mrs. Carrigan states, grabbing three napkins before placing them on their laps. "Now, what do we take, what, two, three?"

"Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew here make six."

Mrs. Carrigan sets back and smiles at them. "Now, that's not so bad, is it?"

"Well, you say it like that, I guess you guys are the Cunninghams."

Mr. Carrigan points at Dean. "You, mister, better show us a little respect."

"Or what," Sam counters. He smirks. "You'll eat us?"

"Not so fast. There's, uh, rituals to be followed first."

"Oh, we're jut sticklers for ritual," Mrs. Carrigan explains.

"And you know what kicks off the shebang?"

"Let me guess," Dean starts. "Meadowsweet. Oh, shucks, you're all out of wreaths. I guess we'll have to cancel the...the sacrifice, huh?"

"Oh, don't be such a gloomy Gus," Mrs. Carrigan says, putting a wreath around Dean's neck. "There." She puts one around Sam's neck before putting one around Addison's. "Don't they just look darling?"

"Good enough to eat," Mr. Carrigan agrees. "Alrighty-roo, step number two." He picks up a large knife and moves in front of Sam. Mrs. Carrigan hands him a bowl and he puts it under Sam's arm.

"Leave him alone," Addison coldly says.

Mr. Carrigan glances at her, then cuts Sam's arm. Sam groans in pain. "Sammy," Dean questions.

"No. Don't. No," Sam yells.

"Leave him alone, you son of a bitch," Dean shouts.

Mr. Carrigan sets the bowl on the table. "You hear how they talk to us," he asks Mrs. Carrigan. He laughs. "To gods." He moves in front of Dean. "Listen, pal, back in the day, we were worshipped by millions.

Dean glares. "Times have changed."

"Ha. Tell me about it. All of a sudden, this Jesus character's the hot, new thing in town. All of a sudden, our altars are being burned down and we're being hunted down like common monsters."

"But did we say peep," Mrs. Carrigan continues. "Oh, oh, oh, no, no, no, we did not." Addison watches watches as Mr. Carrigan puts something in the bowl with Sam's blood. "Two millennium. We kept a low profile, we got jobs, a mortgage. We...what was that word, dear?"

"We assimilated," Mr. Carrigan supplies, picking up a pair of pliers.

"Yeah, we assimilated. Why, we play bridge on Tuesdays and Fridays." Mrs. Carrigan picks up the knife and moves in front of Dean. "We're just like everybody else."

Dean scoffs. "You're not blending in as smooth as you think, lady."

"This might pinch a bit, dear."

Mrs. Carrigan cuts his arm. Dean glares at her. "You bitch!"

"Oh, my goodness, me. Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar." Addison rolls her eyes. "Oh, you know what I say when I feel like swearing? Fudge."

Dean opens his eyes. "I'll try and remember that." Mr. Carrigan takes the bowl and the knife from his wife. He moves in front of Addison. "Don't you touch her."

Mr. Carrigan cuts Addison's arm. "Fuck you," Addison angrily snaps.

"You three have no idea how lucky you are," Mr. Carrigan says, stepping back from Addison. He sets the bowl down on the table and picks up a pair of pliers before moving in front of Sam. "There was a time when kids came from miles around just to be sitting where you are."

Sam worriedly eyes the pliers. "What do you think you're doing with those?"

"You fudging touch me again, I'll fudging kill you," Dean coldly says.

"Very good," Mrs. Carrigan replies before cutting his arm a second time.

Addison looks over to see Mr. Carrigan pull open Sam's hand. "No. No, don't," Sam begs. Mr. Carrigan grips his fingernail with the pilers and pulls it off. Addison looks away, closing her eyes in disgust.

"What else, dear," Mrs. Carrigan asks.

"Well, let's see. Uh, fingernail, blood. Oh," Mr. Carrigan exclaims, hitting his head. "Sweet Peter on a Popsicle stick. I forgot the tooth."

"Merry Christmas, guys," Dean says.

Addison opens her eyes. "Ditto."

Mr. Carrigan picks up a pair of tongs and grabs Dean's face. "Open wide and say: Aah," he tells Dean. He forces Dean's mouth open and puts the tongs in.

Just as Dean feels the cold metal touch one of his teeth, the doorbell rings. The Carrigans glance at each other. "Somebody gonna get that," Dean mumbles. The doorbell rings a second time. "You should get that."

Annoyed, Mr. Carrigan sets the tongs on the table. Mrs. Carrigan pulls off her apron and they leave the kitchen. Quietly and quickly, the three hunters undo the ropes and hide. Addison waits with Sam as the Carrigans reenter the kitchen. Sam slams the door shut. Mr. Carrigan beats against the door as Sam and Addison push against the door. After a few minutes, Dean joins them. "What do we do now," he shouts. "The evergreen stakes are in the basement!"

"Well, we need more evergreen, Dean," Sam replies.

Addison nods over to the Christmas tree. "Ornaments and lights will just have to be an added touch."

Dean runs over to the other side of china cabinet and pushes it in front of the door. They run over to the tree and Addison pushes it down. They pull off branches before darting back over to the door and notice that the door has stopped moving. Suddenly, Dean is tackled to the ground. Sam and Addison turn to see Mrs. Carrigan. "You little things. I loved that tree," she says, then punches Sam.

Addison glances between Sam and Dean. She didn't know who to help. But seeing Sam over power Mrs. Carrigan, Addison runs over to Dean and drives the stake into Mr. Carrigan's back. Dean pushes the body off and stands up. They look over to where Sam is standing over Mrs. Carrigan's body. "Merry Christmas," Sam pants. Dean scoffs while Addison smiles at him.

* * *

Dean glances at Addison as they climb out of the Impala. He grabs her around the waist and pulls her against his chest, a grin on his face. She smirks and presses her lips against his. He's stunned for a moment before kissing her back. His grip on her tightens. Addison pulls back and lightly smiles at him. "Merry Christmas, Dean," she softly says.

"Merry Christmas, Ads," Dean replies.

Addison opens the door and walks in to find the motel room decorated with Christmas stuff. A makeshift Christmas tree had lights and air fresheners. Banners were hanging over the TV that said 'Merry Christmas.' "Hey, you get the beer," Sam asks. He was holding a glass of eggnog.

"What's all this," Dean replies in amazement.

"What do think it is? It's - it's Christmas." Addison smiles and sets the bag down. She walks over to Sam and hugs him. He picks up a glass. "Here. Try the eggnog. Let me know if it needs some more kick."

Addison takes a sip, then starts coughing. "It's got more than enough," she tells him.

"What made you change your mind," Dean questions.

Sam sighs and looks away for a second before turning back to his brother. He picks up another glass and hands it to Dean. "Well, uh, have a seat. Let's do Christmas stuff or whatever."

Dean nods. "All right, first thing's first." He drags a chair from the table and sits down while Sam sits on the couch.

Addison grabs two brightly wrapped gifts from her duffel bag. She notices the looks from them. "Oh, shut up." Sam chuckles as she sits down on the couch next to him. She hands each of them a gift.

Sam opens his to reveal a leather bound journal. He wraps an arm around her shoulder and hugs her. "Thank you." Dean laughs, holding up the case of silver bullets. He sets it down on the coffee table, then pulls out three brown bags. He hands two of them to Sam and one to Addison. "Where'd you get these?"

"Someplace special," Dean says. Addison stares at him. "Gas mart down the street. Open 'em up."

Sam laughs and pulls out three objects wrapped in newspaper. "Great minds think alike, Dean." He hands two presents to Dean and the third one to Addison.

"Really?"

Addison rolls her eyes and opens her presents. She laughs. "The latest issue of Cosmo. Thanks, Dean." She opens the other one to see that it's romance novel. "And a romance novel. Thanks, Sam."

Sam opens his presents and laughs. "Skin mags. And shaving cream."

"You like," Dean amusedly asks.

"Yeah...yeah."

Dean smiles and opens his present. He holds up a quart of oil and a candy bar. "Well, look at this. Fuel for me and fuel for my baby. These are awesome. Thanks." He sets his present on the coffee table and picks up his glass of eggnog. Addison and Sam follow suit. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Addison says. The three of them clink glasses. Silence settles over them. They all knew what this moment meant, none of them wanted to voice it.

"Do you feel like watching the game," Sam asks.

Dean looks at him. "Absolutely." Sam grabs the remote off the coffee table and turns on a random football game.

It's later in the night, after Dean has fallen asleep, that Addison sits down on the couch with a bag of popcorn. She grabs the remote out of Sam's hand. "Time for the annual  _A Christmas Story_  marathon."

Sam drapes his arm over Addison's shoulders. She curls against him and shoots him a glare when he grabs a hand full of popcorn. "I think you need to learn how to share, Ads."

"I have no problem with sharing. I just don't like to share food." Sam chuckles and they fall silent, both watching Santa push Ralphie down the slide. "Merry Christmas, Sam."

Sam smiles. "Merry Christmas, Addison."


	9. Malleus Maleficarum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.  
> 

"She was so scared. I couldn't help; I couldn't do anything to stop it. And I've talked to the police and I've talked to the medical examiner and no one can explain it," Paul Dutton explains to Addison and Dean as Sam searched the bathroom. The three of them were posing as CDC agents while working on their latest case.

"That's why we were called, Mr. Dutton," Addison replies.

"But the CDC, that's disease control right? What do you think; it's some kind of virus?"

"We haven't ruled anything out yet."

"Mr. Dutton, did Janet have any enemies," Dean asks and Paul looks at him.

"I'm sorry?"

"Anyone that might have a reason to hurt her?"

Paul look between the two of them, an alarmed look on his face. "Wait, what are you saying? That somebody poisoned her?"

"We're just trying to cover all the bases, Mr. Dutton," Addison says, hoping that he would calm down a bit.

"Well, I mean, what kind of poison? You think a person could have done this?"

"Would anyone want to," Dean asks.

"What? No, no, there's just no one that could've..." Paul stops as Sam opens the bathroom door and walks out. Sam nods at them.

"Mr. Dutton?"

"Uh, everyone loved Janet."

"Okay. Thank you very much; I think we've got everything we need. We'll get out of your way now," Dean tells Paul and the three of them walk out of the house, a light rain hitting them as they get outside. "That dude seem a little evasive to either of you?"

“Yeah,” Addison replies as they reach the Impala.

"This was under the sink." Sam hands her a small cloth bag and Addison opens it as Dean looks over her shoulder. "Hex bag."

"Aw gross," Dean comments when they see the different bones and teeth.

"Yeah, there are bird bones, rabbit's teeth. This cloth is probably cut from something Janet Dutton owned."

"So we're thinking witch?"

"Uh, yeah, and not some new age wicked water douser either. This is old world black magic. I mean warts and all."

"I hate witches," Dean tells them as they get into the Impala and Addison hands Sam back the hex bag. "They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere."

"Pretty much."

"It's creepy, you know, it's down right unsanitary."

"Yeah, well someone definitely had it out for Janet Dutton."

"Yeah, someone who snuck into that house and planted the bag. So what are we thinking, we're, uh, looking for some old craggy blair bitch in the woods."

"It could be anyone, Dean," Addison counters. "They're human, like the witches and wizards from Harry Potter...but without the magic wands."

Dean stares at her for a moment. "You're such a nerd...a hot nerd, but still—"

"Well, it wasn't random. Someone in Janet Dutton's life had a bone to pick. So if we find the motive..."

"We find the murderer," Dean finishes and Addison nods.

* * *

They pull up to where Paul had fallen on the ground from his car and quickly run over to him. They had spent the day following him around, waiting to see if he would be attacked. "Check the car," Dean shouts to Sam. Addison and Dean help Paul, who was choking, off the ground. "Sam!"

"Got it," Sam replies, pulling the hex bag out from underneath the dashboard. He lights the hex bag on fire with a small blow torch and drops it on the ground and Paul stops choking.

"Are you okay," Addison asks him, as Paul leans against his car.

"What the hell is happening to me," Paul asks them.

"Someone murdered your wife and now they're trying to kill you, that's what's happening to you," Dean tells him.

"That's impossible! There's no way—"

"If we hadn't been following you, you'd be a doornail right now. Now, who wants you dead?"

"I, uh..."

"Come on think."

"There's a woman, uh..."

"A woman, okay?"

"An affair," Paul admits. "A mistake. She was unbalanced, she was blackmailing me and I put an end to it a week ago."

"What's her name," Sam asks.

"What could she have to do with—"

"Paul, just tell us her name," Addison insists. After a moment, Paul reluctantly tells them. Making sure that Paul was okay, the three of them rush over to the woman's house. Dean picks the lock and they silently enter with guns drawn.

Addison flips on the lights to reveal a woman was lying on top of a glass coffee table, with blood pooled around her. "That's a curveball," Dean comments. He walks over and lifts the woman's arm with his gun to reveal scratches. He checks the other wrist and finds the same scratches. "Three per wrist, vertical. She wasn't fooling around."

Sam shoves his gun in the back of his jeans before kneeling down to examine the plate of food. "Yeah, looks like she was working some heavyweight evil here."

"Lovely," Addison retorts.

Dean turns around and jumps when he sees the body of a rabbit hanging from the ceiling. "Oh God," he exclaims. "Fucking witches! Seriously man, come on!"

"Poor Thumper."

"Guess we know where she got the rabbit's teeth from," Sam says.

"Well, Paul sure knows how to pick 'em, huh," Dean states. "It's like  _Fatal Attraction_  all over again."

"Yeah."

"And why does the rabbit always get screwed in the deal? The poor little guy."

"You know what I don't get? If she was so bent on revenge, why do this?"

"Well, maybe after she thought she got Paul that she didn't have anything to live for," Addison theorizes. "Or maybe she was a few screws loose."

"Maybe."

"I mean, this doesn't exactly look like the TV room of a bright and stable person, you know," Dean tells him.

"No, but then..." Sam kneels down and reaches under the coffee table. He holds up a small bag. "There's this."

"Another hex bag? Come on!"

Addison grabs the hex bag and opens it to find the contents similar to the one that they had found in Janet Dutton's bathroom. "So, we have a witch killing another witch?"

"I guess," Sam replies.

Dean pulls out his cell phone and dials 911. "I'd like to report a dead body. 309 Mayfair Circle. My name? Yeah, sure, my name is..." He snaps his phone close and puts it back in his pocket. "Why are witches ganking each other?"

"No idea, but you know what it means, right," Addison questions. Dean unhappily groans. He knew exactly what it meant and he hated it.

* * *

Addison sighs as they walk around the neighborhood. The plan was to talk to people in the neighborhood and find whoever gave off a suspicious vibe. They walk over to where a dark haired woman was kneeling in front of garden. "You must have a green thumb," Sam says.

The woman looks up at them. "Excuse me?"

Sam motions to the garden. "Getting these herbs to grow out of season like this, quite impressive. I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself first." He pulls out his fake badge and shows it to the woman. "I'm, uh, Detective Bachman, this is Detective Turner and Detective Thornton."

Addison smiles at the woman as she flashes her badge. "We're just following up on Amanda Burns' death," she explains as Dean flashes the woman his badge. "Talking to people around the neighborhood, stuff like that."

"But didn't she — I mean, she killed herself," the woman replies. "Right?"

"Maybe," Sam replies, shrugging.

"We heard you were friends with the deceased, right," Dean questions.

"Yeah, I guess so," the woman reluctantly admits.

"Did you know about her practices," Addison asks.

The woman frowns. "I'm sorry, what kind of practices?"

"Well see, her house was littered with satanic paraphernalia," Sam explains.

"A regular Black Sabbath," Dean comments.

The woman looks confused. "No, but she was an Episcopalian."

"Well, then, we're pretty sure she was using the wrong bible," Dean retorts. Addison glares at him, but it goes unseen by him.

"Elizabeth, you alright?"

They three of them turn around to see a blonde woman and another dark haired woman.

"I'm fine," Elizabeth replies. "Uh, Renee, these are detectives. They say Amanda was — she was practicing—"

The blonde looks at them. "I'm sorry, detectives. You can tell that Elizabeth is a little bit upset."

"Of course, Miss..." Dean trails off.

"Mrs. Renee Van Allen. Would you like me to spell it for you?"

Dean forces a smile. "I'll get by thanks."

"This Amanda business has been hard for Liz, for all of us."

"Yeah, I mean, you think you know a person," the third woman says.

"Well, I guess we all have secrets, don't we," Dean states.

"Well, thanks, um, we'll be in touch," Sam tells them.

"Have a nice day," Addison says, then they leave the three woman.

* * *

"Well, we know that Elizabeth lady is definitely a witch," Addison says as the Impala speeds down the highway. She held a small notebook and a flashlight as Dean drove. Sam glances at her from the file he was reading. "That garden of hers was practically a neon sign saying 'I'm a witch.' And she freaked a little when we mentioned the occult."

"Well, she's definitely had a good run lately," Sam says. "Gone up a few tax brackets; won almost too many raffles. Kinda thing a little black magic always helps with."

"Yeah," Dean agrees.

"I don't think she's alone either. Looks like Mrs. Renee Van Allen has won almost every craft contest she has entered in the past three months."

"Yeah, a regular Martha Stewart, huh? Except for the devil worship, I'm thinking that was the coven back there we met minus one member."

"Well, Amanda was acting kinda psycho. Think they killed her to keep up appearances," Addison questions.

"Seems like an appearance kind of crowd, don't you think?"

"They're a bunch of housewives, Dean. Of course they keep up appearances."

"If they killed the nut job should we, uh, thank them or what?"

"They're working black magic too, Dean. They need to be stopped," Sam argues.

Dean glances at his younger brother. "'Stopped' like stopped?" Sam remains silent. "They're human, Sam."

"They're murderers."

Dean sighs. "Burn, witch, burn." Addison shakes her head. Noises come from the Impala's engine and the car stops in the middle of the road. "What the hell?"

The three of them climb out. Addison moves to stand next to Dean as she recognizes the blonde standing in front of them. "Ruby," Sam states.

"Sam, listen to me," Ruby begins. "There's no time."

"For what? What are you talking about?"

"You have to get out of town."

"So, this is Ruby, huh," Dean says. He pulls out the Colt and aims it at the demon. "Never had the pleasure."

"Dean," Sam snaps. He glances at Addison, his eyes were asking for her help.

Addison sighs. "Dean, please put the gun away," she softly asks.

"I was hoping you'd show up again," Dean tells Ruby, ignoring Addison.

"Point that thing somewhere else," Ruby counters.

Dean scoffs. "Right."

"Sam, please, go. Get in the car and don't look back."

"Why," Sam questions. "I don't understand."

"Hey, hot stuff, we can take care of a few kitchen witches," Dean coldly says. "Thanks."

"I'm not talking about witches, you jackass. Witches are whores," Ruby argues. She takes a deep breath and looks at Sam. "I'm talking about who they serve."

The three of them exchange a confused look. Then realization sinks in. "Demons," Sam says. "They get their power from demons."

"Yeah, and there's one here now."

"Oh, what, you mean besides you," Dean points out.

Ruby shoots a glare at the oldest Winchester. "Sam, it knows you're in town and it's gonna come after you and it's way more than you can handle."

Dean scoffs. "Oh, come on. What is this, huh? Please tell me you're not listening to this crap!"

Ruby shoots another glare at Dean. "Put a leash on your brother, Sam, if you wanna keep him."

Sam turns to Dean. "Dean, look, just chill out."

Dean shakes his head. "No, no! She's messing with your head, God knows why, that's who they are!"

"I'm telling you the truth," Ruby replies.

"And I'm telling you to shut up, bitch."

"I'm sorry, why are you even a part of this conversation?!"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because he's my brother, you black eyed skank!"

"Oh, right, right. You care about your brother so much, that's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving him all alone?"

Addison sees the anger on Dean's face. If looks could kill, then Ruby would've been dead in that instant. "Shut up."

"At least let me try and save him, since you won't be here to do it anymore."

"I said shut up!"

Dean aims the Colt at Ruby. "Dean, no," Sam shouts, running over to his brother. He pushes Dean's arm and Dean fights him back. Addison runs over and pushes them apart. They see that Ruby has vanished.

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking," Dean exclaims as they enter the motel room. Addison sighs as she pulls takes off her leather jacket and enters the bathroom. The last thing she wanted was to be in the middle of the brothers fighting, but she had a feeling that was where it was going.

"What," Sam replies. "What the hell was I thinking?"

"She's a demon, Sam, period alright. They want us dead, we want them dead."

Sam scoffs. "Oh, that's funny. I remember that demon chick in Ohio, Casey? You didn't want her dead."

"Yeah, well she wasn't stringing me along like a fish on a hook."

"No one's stringing me along!" Sam takes a deep breath. "Look, I know it's dangerous, that she is dangerous, but like it or not, she is useful."

Dean shakes his head. "No. We kill her before she kills us."

"Kill her with what? The gun she fixed for us?"

Dean shrugs. "Whatever works."

"Dean, if she wants us dead, all she has to do is stop saving our lives." Dean turns and walks over to the sink. Addison opens the bathroom door. She edges her way past him. "Look, we have to start looking at the big picture, Dean, start thinking in strategies and - and moves ahead." Dean splashes cold water on his face. Addison sits down on the edge of the bed she was sharing with Dean, hairbrush in hand. "It's not so simple, we're not...we're not just hunting anymore, we're at war."

Dean turns off the water and dries his face. He finally looks his younger brother. "Are you feeling okay?"

Sam frowns, sitting down on his bed. "Uh, why are you always asking me that?"

"Because you're taking advice from a demon for starters, and by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing people, it used to eat you up inside."

"Yeah and what has that gotten me?"

"Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do okay? We're supposed to drive in the fucking car, fucking argue about this stuff. You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that crap."

"Wait, so you're mad because I'm starting to agree with you," Sam disbelievingly asks.

"No, I'm not mad. I — I'm worried, Sam," Dean says, sitting down next to Addison. "I'm worried because you're not acting like yourself."

"Yeah, you're right, I'm not. I don't have a choice."

Addison looks at him confused. "What do you mean," she asks, speaking for the first time.

"Look, Dean, you're leaving right? And me and Ads gotta stay here in this shit hole of a world, alone. So the way I see if, if we're gonna make it, if we're gonna fight this war after you're gone, then one of us has gotta change."

Addison turns her gaze down to the floor, trying to ignore the pain. "Change into what," Dean asks, grabbing his stomach.

"Into you," Sam confess. "I gotta be more like you."

Dean groans in pain. Addison looks at him, concerned. "Dean, are you okay?"

"Something's wrong...bunch of knives...inside of me," Dean forces out. Addison stands up and moves in front of him. She places a hand on his forehead. "Son of a bitch."

"Witches." Addison turns to Sam. "It has to be the coven." Together, Sam and Addison tear apart the motel room, searching for the hex bag. Sheets, towels, and their clothes are strewn out on the floor. Dean coughs and Addison rushes over to his side. "Sam!" He looks and sees the blood. He grabs his knife and cuts open the mattress, but doesn't find anything.

"I can't find it," Sam says in frustration. Dean falls onto the ground, still coughing. Addison kneels down next to him and puts a comforting hand on his back. Sam searches his bag and pulls out the Colt.

Addison glances at him. "Sam, where are you going?" Sam doesn't say anything and runs out of the room. "Sam!" She pulls the sheets and pillows off of Dean's bed. The motel door flies open and Addison turns to see Ruby stride over to Dean. "Stay away from him."

"You wanna kill me? Get in line, bitch," Dean coughs. The demon pushes Addison out of the way and throws Dean onto his bed. Addison tries pulling Ruby away, but Ruby throws her across the room.

Dean fights Ruby, but she forces open his mouth. She pours a black liquid in his mouth. Ruby stands up as Dean coughs. "Stop calling me bitch," Ruby coldly replies. Addison slowly stands up. She clutched her side. She watches as Dean takes a deep breaths, then slowly sits up. "Next time you point that gun at me, I'm not gonna just disappear, understand?"

Ruby tosses a shotgun to Dean. "You saved my life," he disbelievingly says.

"Don't mention it."

"What was that stuff," Dean questions. "God, it was ass. It tasted like ass."

"It's called witchcraft, short bus."

They watch as Ruby walks out of the motel room, slamming the door shut behind her. "You're the short bus...short bus."

Addison looks at Dean. "That was the lamest comeback ever."

"Shut up."

* * *

Dean runs into the house with his shotgun drawn and Addison on his heels. And within seconds, they’re tossed across the room. Sam was pressed against a wall, while Elizabeth stood near the back of the living room. Addison groans as she hits the wall and Dean does the same. “Three for one. Lovely,” the demonic-witch says.

“Wait,” Ruby says, entering the living room. The demon holds up her hands. “Please. I just…came to talk.”

“You made it out of the gate. Impressive. That was a bitch of a fight, wasn’t it,” the demonic-witch says.

“Doors out of Hell only open for so long.”

“What do you want, Ruby?”

“I’ve been lost without you,” Ruby says, moving towards the demonic-witch. “Take me back. That’s why I led the Winchesters here.”

“I told you so,” Dean mouths, while glaring at Ruby.

“Really,” Addison hisses.

“They’re for you as a gift,” Ruby continues.

An impressed look crosses the demonic-witch’s face. “Really?”

“Let me serve you again. I’ve wanted it — I’ve wanted you — for so long.”

“You were one of my best,” the demonic-witch replies. Ruby pulls out her knife and moves to stab the demonic-witch, but is stopped. “But then again, you always were a lying whore.” The knife is tossed across the room and the demons engage in a fight. Ruby gets thrown in to a TV and she easily gets up. She kicks the demonic-witch and moves to run past her, but gets knocked to the floor. The demonic-witch tosses Ruby into a bookcase then grabs a fire poker. “You’re really telling me you threw in your chips with the Three Stooges here?” Ruby starts to stand up but the demonic-witch slams the fire poker across her face. Elizabeth darts over to the alter and dumps a bunch of stuff into the cloth. 

“Come on. Get up,” the demonic-witch goads. Ruby lays there, panting. “I said, get up!” The demonic-witch throws the fire poker to the side and yanks Ruby up. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we?” The demonic-witch chuckles and turns to Sam. “She didn’t tell you? Pretty mortifying I guess. She was one of mine. I turned her out a long, long time ago. Ruby here was a witch. Of course that was when you were human.” The demonic-witch tosses Ruby back into the bookcase. “Didn’t want your friends to know that all those centuries back you sold yourself to me? Embarrassing, I guess. But don’t worry, love, no secrets where you’re heading remember?”

The demonic-witch begins chanting, but stops when she coughs. The trio falls from their places as the demonic-witch keeps coughing. She looks over at Elizabeth and clenches her hand in a fist. Elizabeth gasps, then falls forward onto the table, dead. Dean grabs Ruby’s knife and runs up behind the demonic-witch. He stabs her in the back, multiple times. Dean lets go of her and the body falls to the floor. Addison pushes herself up and moves over to help Sam as Dean does the same.

The trio stops by the door and look at Ruby. “Go,” the demon tells them. She wipes away blood from her mouth. “I’ll clean up this mess.” The trio exchanges a look, then walks out of the house.

* * *

Addison steps out of the bathroom, dressed in a tank top and yoga pants. Sam was standing in front of the mirror with a worried look on his face. She knew exactly what he had been thinking about because it had been the same thing on her mind. She places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find a way, Sam,” she softly tells him.

“And what do we do if Dean doesn’t want to be saved,” Sam replies.

“Then he’s shit out of luck.” Addison sighs. “Look, I know I haven’t exactly been into helping find a way to save him, but I’m not gonna let him die without at least trying to find a way. I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself knowing that we didn’t try.” She pats his shoulder as a comfortable silence falls over them. The motel door open and Dean walks in. The look on his face didn’t help the mood over the room. And it definitely didn’t help the pit in Addison’s stomach.


	10. Dream a Little Dream of Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I do own the original characters.

Addison enters the bar with Dean behind her. They had spent the better part of the morning searching for Sam. She lets out a relived breath when she spots Sam sitting at the counter. She walks over to him and smacks his arm. "We've been looking everywhere for you," she tells him. "What are you doing?"

"Having a drink," Sam answers, then takes a sip of whiskey.

"At two in the afternoon? And why are you drinking whiskey?"

"I drink whiskey all the time."

"No you don't."

"What's the big deal, Addison? Dean gets sloppy in bars. He hits on chicks all the time. Why can't I?"

Addison rolls her eyes and sits down next to him. Dean looks around the virtually empty bar. "Slim pickings around here," he says, turning back to Sam. "What's going on with you?"

Sam looks down at the counter. "I tried, Dean."

"To do what?"

"To save you."

Dean sits on the empty stool next to him. He motions to the bartender. "Could I get a whiskey, double, neat."

"I'm serious, Dean."

"Sam, you're drunk," Addison points out.

"I mean, where you're going...what you're gonna become." They could see the tears in his eyes and Sam scoffs. "I can't stop it...I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the things is, no one can save you."

"What I've been telling you," Dean replies, picking up his drink.

"No," Sam says. "That's not what I mean. I mean, no one can save you because you don't wanna be saved. I mean, how can you care so little about yourself?" Dean scoffs and looks away. "What's wrong with you?"

Addison watches as Dean turns back to Sam. She could see that Dean was getting ready to finally open up. Then a phone rings. Dean sets his drink down before pulling out his phone. "Hello," he answers. "Yes, this is Mr. Sniderson." A shocked look appears on his face. "What? Where?"

* * *

Addison stood next to Sam with Dean on the other side of the bed that Bobby was lying in. They had rushed to Pennsylvania as fast as they could. The doctor was standing at the foot of the bed. "So, what's the diagnosis," Sam questions.

"We've tested everything we can think to test," the doctor answers. "He seems perfectly healthy."

"Except that he's in a coma," Addison counters.

The doctor nods, turning to Dean. "Mr. Sniderson, you're his emergency contact. Anything we should know? Any illnesses?"

"No, he — he never gets sick," Dean says. "I mean, he doesn't even catch a cold."

"Doctor, is there anything you can do," Sam asks.

The doctor sighs. "Look, I'm sorry, but we don't know what's causing it...so we don't know how to treat it. He just...went to sleep and didn't wake up."

* * *

Entering Bobby's motel room, Addison raises an eyebrow seeing that it was very clean. Their rooms were usually messy, with random weapons and sometimes clothes laying around the room. "Why do you think Bobby's in Pittsburgh," she asks, walking over to the mini fridge.

"Unless he's taking an extremely lame vacation..." Dean trails off, pulling open a drawer only to find it empty.

"I mean, he must have been working a job, right," Sam reasons. Addison opens a cabinet, but it's empty.

"Well, you think there'd be some sort of sign of something, you know," Dean says. "Research, news clippings...Or a fucking pizza box or beer can."

"Well, not everyone is like you, Dean," Addison remarks, causing him to glare at her.

Sam opens the closet and finds it filled with Bobby's clothes. "How bout this," he asks, moving the clothes. Dean and Addison join him to look. Newspaper clips, maps, and pictures of plants were hanging up.

Dean chuckles. "Good old Bobby. Always covering up his tracks."

"Either of you make heads or tails of any of this?"

Dean grabs a picture of a plant. "'Silene capensis,' which of course means absolutely nothing to me."

"Obit," Addison says, grabbing a newspaper article with a picture of a man. "'Dr. Walter Gregg, 64.' And he was a university neurologist."

"How'd he bit it?"

"Says that he went to sleep and didn't wake up," Addison answers.

Dean grabs the article from her. "That sound familiar to you two?"

"Alright, um..." Sam begins. "So, let's say Bobby was looking into the doc's death. You know, hunting after something—"

"That started hunting him."

"Yeah."

"Alright, stay here. See if you can make heads or tails of this."

"And what are you going to do," Addison asks.

"Look into the good doctor myself," Dean replies, before walking out of the room.

Addison walks over to Sam and wraps her arm around him. "Sam."

Sam chuckles. "I'll get the coffee and doughnuts." She stares at him, waiting. "Ads, when I have I forgotten the chocolate icing?"

She smiles. "Thank you."

* * *

Addison and Sam quietly enter Bobby's hospital room. Dean looks up and the three of them share a look. Bobby meant something to all of them and they didn't want to lose him. "How is he," Sam asks, as he and Addison move closer to the bed.

Dean rubs his face. "No change. What you got?"

"Well, considering what you told us about the doc's experiments...Bobby's wall is starting to make a hell of a lot more sense."

"How so?"

Addison grabs the picture of a plant out of the file Sam was holding. "Silene capensis aka African Dream Root. It's been used by shaman and medicine men for centuries," she explains.

"Let me guess. They dose up, bust out didjeridus, start kicking around the hackey."

Addison lightly smiles for a second. "Not exactly. According to legends, it's used for dream walking. Like mentally going into someone else's dreams and looking around in their head."

"It take it we believe the legends."

"When do we," Sam scoffs. "But dream walking is just the tip of the iceberg."

"What do you mean?"

"If you take enough of the dream root and with practice, you practically become Freddy Krueger. I mean you can control the other person's dreams. Turn bad ones good...turn good ones bad."

"And killing people in their sleep?"

Addison nods. "That's just one example."

"So, let's say, uh, let's say this doc was testing this stuff on his patients, Tim Leary style," Sam begins.

"Somebody gets pissed at him, decides to give him a little dream visit, he goes nighty night," Dean continues.

"What about Bobby? I mean, if the killer came after him, how come he's still alive?"

"I don't know." Silence settles over them as they think about Bobby. "So, how do we find out homicidal sandman?"

"Could be anyone," Addison softly answers.

"Yeah?" She nods. "Anyone who knew the doctor and had access to his dream shrooms."

"Maybe one of his test subjects or something," Sam suggests.

"Possibly. But his research was pretty sketchy. I mean...I don't know how many subjects he had or who all of them were." Sam scoffs and Dean glances at him. "What?"

Sam sighs. "Any other case, we'd be calling Bobby and asking him for help right now."

Realization crosses Dean's face. "You know what? You're right.”

"What?"

Sam shoots a confused look at Addison and she shrugs. "Sure, I think we might find the conversation a bit one sided."

"Not if we're tripping on some dream root."

"What," Addison disbelievingly asks.

"You heard me."

Addison crosses her arms. "So, you wanna go dream walking in Bobby's head?"

"Yeah. Why not? Maybe we could help."

"Dean, we have no idea what's crawling around in his head."

"How bad could it be?"

"Uh, bad."

"Ads, it's Bobby."

"Yeah, you're right," Sam reluctantly agrees. He scoffs. "One problem though. We're fresh out of African Dream Root, so unless you know someone who can score some it..."

"Fuck," Dean says.

"What?"

"Bela."

Sam scoffs. "Bela? You're actually suggesting we ask her a favor?"

"I'm feeling dirty just thinking about it, but yeah."

"Well, I'm not calling her," Addison says. "She's still on top of my 'People that I need to shoot' list."

_Sam lets out a tried sigh. He closes his laptop and leans back in the chair. He runs a hand over his face. Sam looks up when a hand touches her shoulder. Addison stood in front of him, wearing her long peacoat. Her red hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders. "Are you okay," she softly asks._

_"I'm fine," Sam replies. "Just stressed about this case.”_

_Addison places her other hand on his shoulder and straddles his lap. "You need to relax, Sam." She leans in close. Sam grips her hips. "I can help you relax."_

_Addison reaches down and unbuttons her coat, letting it fall open. Sam's breath catches in his throat. She wore only a black lace bra and panties. “Addison—"_

_"I've been thinking about this for a long time, Sam," Addison whispers, her lips mere inches away from his. Sam wraps an arm around her waist and brings her lips to his. Addison snakes her arms around his neck and presses against him. He pulls back. Sam stands up and walks over to the bed. His lips trail down her neck and across the top of her breasts. She moans. "Sam. Sam. Sam."_

"Sam! Wake up," Dean calls out. Sam smiles, then opens his eyes. He realizes that everything was just a dream. He sits up and wipes his face, only to find that he had wiped drool all over him. He wipes his face with his other hand as Dean amusedly watches. "Dude, you were out. Making some seriously happy noises. Who were you dreaming about?"

"What? No one. Nothing," Sam answers, shifting in his seat.

"Come on, you can tell me. Angelina Jolie?"

"No."

"Brad Pitt?"

Sam glances at his brother. "No. No. Dude, it doesn't matter."

Dean shrugs. "Whatever."

"Whatever," Sam mutters to himself. Then he notices whose missing. "Where's, uh, where's Ads?"

"She went to go something to eat. I swear, she eats more than I do. And this shouldn't come as a shocker, but Bella isn't gonna help. I've been trying to decipher the doctor's notes. Unfortunately, he has worse handwriting than you do." Dean looks at him and smirks. "You gonna come help me with this stuff?"

Sam glances at his lap, then looks over the books on the table. "Yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec."

The door opens and Sam looks up to Addison enter the room with Bela behind her. "Look who I found," she says, taking off her coat. He hides his disappointment seeing that Addison was wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt.

"Bela," Dean coldly greets, standing up. "As I live and breathe."

"You called me. Remember," Bela counters, taking off her trench coat and tossing it on one of the beds.

"I remember you turning us down."

"Well, I'm just full of surprises." Addison places a paper bag on the table that Dean had been sitting at. "I brought you your African Dream Root," Bela continues, handing Dean a jar. "Nasty stuff and not easy to come by."

"So, why the sudden change of heart," Addison asks.

"What? I can't do you a little favor every now and again?"

Addison and Dean exchange a glance. "No, you can't," Dean replies. "Come on, I wanna know what the strings are before you attach them."

"You said this was for Bobby Singer, right," Bela asks. They nod. "Well, I'm doing it for him. Not you."

"Bobby? Why?"

"He saved my life once...in Flagstaff." Bela watches as they exchange disbelieving looks with Sam. "I screwed up and he saved me, okay? You satisfied?"

"Maybe."

Bela looks between the three hunters. "So when do we go on this little magical mystery tour?"

"Oh, you're not going anywhere," Dean tells her, grabbing the Colt and jar. "I don't trust you enough to let you in my car, much less Bobby's head. No offense."

"None taken." Addison frowns as Bela watches Dean put the Colt and jar in the safe before locking it. "It's two am. Where am I supposed to go?"

"Get a room. Ah, they got the Magic Fingers, a little Casa Erotica on pay per view. You'll love it."

Bela glares at them as she picks up her coat. "You..."

They watch Bela leave the room. Sam clears his throat and goes into the bathroom. "What's wrong with him," Addison asks, turning to Dean.

With a smirk on his face, Dean answers, "No idea."

* * *

Addison takes the small glass of tea from Sam as Dean sits down on the other bed with his own glass. Sam sits down next to her. The tea was made from part of dream root. "Uh, should we dim the lights and synch up  _Wizard of Oz_  to  _Dark Side of the Moon_ ," Dean asks.

A confused look appears on Sam's face. "Why?"

Addison stares at him. "Sam, really?"

"What did you do during college," Dean questions his brother.

Sam shrugs. Dean starts to drink his tea. "Wait, wait, wait," Sam says, stopping him. He pulls a small envelope from his shirt pocket. "Can't forget this."

He sprinkles something in Addison's drink before doing the same to Dean's and his. "What is that," she asks.

"Bobby's hair."

"We have to drink Bobby's hair," Dean disbelievingly asks.

"That's how you control whose dream you're entering," Sam explains. "You gotta drink some of their uh...some of their body."

Addison wrinkles her nose. "Ew."

"Well, guess the hair of the dog is better than other parts of the body," Dean counters. He raises his cup and they do the same. "Bottoms up."

They each drink the tea. Addison coughs trying not to spit it up. She notices the looks on the guys' faces, seeing that they too didn't like the taste. She looks around the room, but nothing had changed. "Either of you feeling anything," Addison asks.

"No," Sam replies. "You feeling anything?"

Dean shakes his head. "No." He examines the inside of the cup. "Maybe we got some bad shwag."

Thunder echoes in the room. Sam looks at the window and frowns. "Hey, when did it start raining?"

Dean turns to see the rain. He gets up and opens the curtains. Addison stares in confusion. "When did it start raining upside down," Dean asks.

Addison and Sam stand up to join him at the window when the room suddenly changes. No longer were they in the motel room, but in a dark living room. The wall paper was a dark red with a floral design. They turn back to the window, but it's replaced with a fireplace. "Huh," Addison comments, looking around.

"Okay, I don't know what's weirder. The fact that we're in Bobby's head or that he's dreaming of _Better Homes and Gardens_ ," Dean states.

"Wait. Wait a sec," Sam says, gesturing around them. "Imagine the place without the paint job. More cluttered, dusty, books all over the place."

"This is Bobby's house," Addison asks.

"Yeah."

"Bobby," Dean calls out in a hushed tone.

Addison walks around the living room as Sam does the same. "Bobby," she quietly calls. She turns to see Sam looking out the window.

Sam shakes his head and moves near the stairs. "Bobby," he whispers. He looks back towards the front door. "Dean?" Dean turns from where he was nearing the entrance to the kitchen. "I'm gonna go look outside."

"No, no, no," Dean whispers. "Stay close."

"Dude, I'll be fine. Just...you guys look around in here."

"Sam," Addison softly begins.

"Look, we gotta find him."

Addison sighs. She glances at Dean and shrugs. "Don't do anything stupid," Dean tells his younger brother. Sam nods, then walks out of the house. Dean opens the doors to the kitchen and Addison follows him. The hallway was eerily silent, much like the rest of the house. "Bobby?"

Addison frowns as she notices a door with scratch marks on it. "Dean," she softly says, motioning to the door. She walks over to it. "Bobby?"

"Addison?" The two hunters exchange a relived look.

"Yeah. It's me and Dean," Addison quietly replies. "Can you open the door?"

The door opens and Bobby exits the closet. "How in the hell did you find me," he asks them, looking around. There were scratches on his face. And he was obviously scared of something.

"We got our hands on some of that dream root stuff," Dean explains.

"Dream root? What?"

"Dr. Gregg, the experiments?"

Bobby glances at them, confused. "What the hell are you talking about?" Suddenly, the lights flicker. "Hurry."

Bobby starts towards the closet, but Dean grabs his arm. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What's going on?"

"She's coming.”

"Bobby, you know that this is a dream, right," Addison asks.

"What are you, crazy?"

"It's a dream, Bobby," Dean tells him. "None of this is real!"

"Does that look made up," Bobby counters, pointing to something behind them.

Dean and Addison turn around to see a blonde woman wearing a white dress walking towards them. The closet door slams shut and Bobby desperately tries to open it. Blood was on the woman's dress and she had cuts on her neck. "Bobby, who is that," Dean asks.

Tears form in Bobby's eyes. "She's...she's my wife."

The woman nears them. "Why, Bobby," she asks. "Why did you do this to me?"

"I'd rather died myself than hurt you," Bobby tearful tells her.

"But you did hurt me. You shoved that knife into me. Again and again. You watched me bleed. Watched me die."

Dean grabs Bobby and forces the older hunter to look at him. "Bobby, she's not real."

"How could you," the woman continues.

"You were possessed, baby. You were rabid. And I didn't know what I know now. I didn't know how to save you," Bobby sadly explains.

"You're lying. You wanted me dead. If you'd loved me, you would've found a way!"

"I'm sorry."

Dean grabs Bobby's arm and leads him into the living room. Addison quickly follows and closes the doors behind her. The woman bangs on the doors. Dean grabs some rope and ties the door handles shut. Addison moves in front of Bobby. "Bobby, listen to us," she says. "None of this real. You're having a nightmare."

Bobby stares at the door. Tears stream down his face. "I killed her."

"Bobby," Dean shouts. "This is your dream. You can wake up. I mean, hell, you can do anything."

"Just leave me alone. Let her kill me already."

Dean grabs his shoulders. "Look at me. You gotta snap out of this now! You're not gonna die. I'm not gonna let you die. You're like a father to me. You gotta believe me, please."

Bobby looks from the door to Dean and back. "I'm dreaming," he disbelievingly says.

"Yes," Addison says. "You gotta take control of it."

Bobby looks at the doors and closes his eyes. The screaming and banging at the door stops. Dean walks over to the doors and opens them to reveal an empty kitchen. "I don't believe it," Bobby says, opening his eyes.

"Believe it," Dean replies. "Now would you please wake up?"

Addison shoots up in the bed, panting. She looks between the brothers, then falls back onto the bed. "No more dream walking."

* * *

“I hate wearing bras,” Addison mutters as she and Sam ride the elevator up to the floor Bobby was on. Sam watches from the corner of his eye as she adjusts her bra. He quickly adverts his gaze. His dream from earlier comes to the forefront of his mind and he takes a deep breath. “I swear these things are medieval torture devices.”

Sam laughs as they enter Bobby's room to find Bobby up and Dean sitting on the empty bed. "So, uh, stoner boy wasn't in his dorm. My guess is he's long gone by now,” he tells them.

Bobby picks up a picture sitting on the table. "He ain't much of a stoner," he replies.

"What do you mean," Addison asks, sitting down next to Dean.

"His name's Jeremy Frost. Full on genius. Hundred and sixty IQ. Which is saying some thing, considering his dad took a baseball bat to his head." Bobby picks up another picture and hands it to Sam. "He died before Jeremy was ten."

"Looks like a real sweetheart," Sam says, setting the picture down.

"Injury gave him Charcot-Wilbrand. He hasn't dreamt since."

"Until he started taking the dream root," Addison states.

"Yep."

"How'd he know how to dig up your worst nightmare and throw it at you," Dean questions.

"He was rooting around in my skull. God knows what he saw in there."

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "How'd he get in there in the first place? Isn't he supposed to have some of your hair, your DNA or something?"

"Yeah. Before I knew it was him, he offered me a beer. I drank it. Dumbest frigging thing."

"Oh, I don't know," Dean nervously laughs. "It wasn't that dumb."

Addison looks at him for a second, then narrows her gaze. “Really, Dean.”

Dean glares at her. "I was thirsty, Addison."

"That's great," Sam angrily begins. "Now he can come after either one of you."

"Well, now we just have to find him first."

"We better work fast and coffee up," Bobby says. "Because one thing we cannot do is fall asleep." Addison lets out a frustrated sigh and flops backwards onto the bed.

* * *

Addison tightly grips the handle of the back door in the Impala as it speeds over a hill. Two days had passed since they had started the search for Jeremy Frost and they were currently running on no sleep. But with the way Dean had been driving, one didn't need caffeine to help stay awake. Addison tries to stifle her yawn, but it's no use. "I mean, this Jeremy guy's not a fucking ghost," Dean complains. "Where the hell could he be?"

Sam worriedly glances at him. "Dean, are you sure you don't want me to drive? You seem a little...caffeinated."

"Thanks for the news flash, Edison," Dean snaps. His phone rings and after a couple of moments, he finally pulls it out of his pocket. "Tell me you got something."

"Strip club was a bust, huh," Bobby asks over the speaker.

"Yeah."

"That was our last lead."

"What the hell, Bobby!"

"Don't yell at me, boy. I'm working my ass off here."

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just...I'm - I'm - I'm tired."

"We're all tired, Dean," Addison points out.

"What's Bela got," Dean asks, ignoring her.

After a moment, Bobby answers, "She's got nothing."

"Great! Well, I'm just gonna go blow my brains out now." Dean snaps his phone shut and tosses it at Addison before hitting the steering wheel. Addison rolls her eyes and tosses the phone back at him. Dean turns down a side road and stops the Impala in a clearing of woods. "Alright, that's it. I'm done."

Sam shoots Addison a confused look and she shrugs. "What are you doing," he asks.

Dean slides down in the seat and lays his head against the window. "Taking myself a long over due nap."

"You know that Jeremy is going to come right after you," Addison points out.

"That's the idea."

"What," Sam disbelievingly asks.

"Come on, man, we can't find him, so let him come to me."

"On his own turf? Where he's basically a god?"

"I can handle it."

"Not alone, you can't."

Sam rips out some of Dean's hair. "Ow!" Dean touches the top of his head. "What are you doing?"

"Coming in with you."

"No, you're not."

"Why not," Sam counters, picking up a thermos. He dumps the hair in and shakes it. "At least then it'll be three against one."

Dean stares at him for a second. "Cause I don't want you two digging around in my head."

"Too bad," Sam replies, then drinks some of the tea. He hands the thermos to Addison and she drinks some of it before handing the thermos back to Sam. She sighs as she lays down in the backseat and closes her eyes.

* * *

Addison opens her eyes and finds herself still in the backseat of the Impala. She sits up as Sam wakes up. She shakes Dean's shoulder. "Dean. Dean!"

Dean shoots up. "Jeez. For the love of God," he mutters, then looks around. "What are we still doing here?"

"I have no idea," Sam answers. A noise comes from outside. "There's someone out there."

The three of them climb out of the Impala. Addison looks around the woods, then music plays. She glances at Sam and he shrugs. They walk towards Dean to see him staring at a dark haired woman sitting on a blanket. "Isn't that Lisa," Addison quietly asks Sam. "From when we dealt with the changelings?"

"Yeah," Sam whispers.

Dean glances at them. "I've never had this dream before." Addison rolls her eyes, clearly not believing him. "Stop looking at me like that."

Sam awkwardly looks away. "Sorry."

"Dean," Lisa says. "I love you."

The scene in front of them shakes and disappears. They look around, confused. "Where'd she go," Dean asks.

Addison stares at the dark haired, bearded man that appeared from behind a tree. "Guys." Jeremy runs off and the three of them quickly take off after him. Sam suddenly stops in a clearing and Addison looks around in confusion. "Where's Dean," she pants.

A loud bang causes Addison to shoot up. She frowns, seeing that her, Sam, and Dean were back in the Impala. "Dean," Sam says, hitting his arm. "Hey. Wake up."

Instead of Dean waking up, it's Jeremy. He jams the end of a baseball bat in Sam's stomach. Addison ducks done as he swings the bat towards her. She opens the door and crawls out of the Impala as Sam does the same. She crawls over to Sam and places a hand on his back. "Boy, you just don't know when to leave well enough alone, do you," Jeremy says, walking over to them.

"You're a psycho," Addison tells him.

Jeremy glares at her. "You're wrong."

"Yeah," Sam asks, sitting up. He places a protective hand on Addison's thigh. "Tell that to Dr. Gregg."

"The doc? No, no. The doc's the one that got me hooked on this stuff and then he took it away. But I needed it and he wouldn't let me have it."

"So, you decided to kill him," Addison questions.

"I can dream again. You know what that's like, not being able to dream? You never rest, not really. It's like being awake for fifteen years."

"And let me guess," Sam begins. "That makes you go crazy?"

Jeremy leans down towards them. "I just wanna be left alone. I just wanna dream."

"Sorry. Can't do that."

"That's the wrong answer." Suddenly, Addison and Sam are separated. She pulls at the ropes around her wrists, but nothing happens. She looks over to see Sam in the same position as her; stretched out with ropes around wrists and ankles that where tied to railroad spikes. "I'm getting better and better at this. Stronger and stronger all the time. But you two and your brother? You're not waking up. Not this time. I'm not gonna let you."

Jeremy brutally hits Sam's legs with the bat. "Sam," Addison shouts. She pulls harder at the ropes, then it clicks her mind.

Jeremy raises the bat over Sam's chest. "You can't stop me. There's nothing I can't do in here."

"Because of the Dream Root," Sam pants.

"That's right."

"Yeah? Well, you're forgetting something."

"What's that?"

"We took the Dream Root too," Addison states, smirking at him.

"Jeremy," a man shouts. They look to see Henry, Jeremy's father, standing by the tree line. "Jeremy!"

"No. No," Jeremy says, panicked. Henry stalks toward his son. "Dad?"

"You answer me when I'm talking to you, boy," Henry coldly says.

Jeremy backs up. "No."

The ropes around Addison's wrists and ankles loosen. She stands up as a baseball bat appears in her hand. She walks up behind Jeremy. "Hey," she says. Jeremy turns around and Addison swings the bat at his head. Jeremy falls down. She slams the bat at the back of his neck.

Gasping, Addison opens her eyes to find herself back in the Impala. She sits up and sees the boys in the front seat. The three of them exchange a look, then look away. Addison lays back down in the seat. Her hand goes to the gold cross around her neck and she closes her eyes.

* * *

Addison sighs as she wipes the toothpaste off her mouth. She and Sam hadn't had a chance to talk since they woke up. She walks out of the bathroom as Sam and Bobby enter the motel room. She shoots Sam a smile and he smiles back. Relief fills her, knowing that he didn't think any differently about her. "Hey, you guys seen Bela," Dean asks, snapping his phone shut. "She's not in her room. She's not answering her phone."

"She probably took off," Addison tells him.

"Just like that? It's a little weird."

"Yeah, well, if you ask me what's weird is why she helped us in the first place," Bobby says.

"I thought you saved her life."

A confused look crosses Bobby's face. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The thing in Flagstaff."

"That thing in Flagstaff was an amulet. I gave her a good deal, that's all."

Addison frowns as the boys look confused. "Well, then why did—"

"You three better check your pockets," Bobby interrupts.

Addison shakes her head as the boys check their jean pockets. "Not your actual pockets," she says, walking over to the safe.

"No, no, no, no," Dean says, joining her. Addison opens the safe and finds it empty.

"The Colt," Sam disbelievingly says. "Bela stole the Colt."

"Damn it," Bobby angrily exclaims.

Dean slams the safe door shut. "Pack your shit."

"Why," Addison asks. "She's probably five states away, Dean."

Dean glares at her. "Don't care, Addison. We're gonna go hunt the bitch down."

* * *

Addison watches as Dean and Sam climb into the Impala. Silence settles between them. "Guys," Dean says after a moment.

"Yeah," Sam replies, looking at his older brother.

Dean clears his throat. "I've been doing some thinking. And...well, the thing is...I don't wanna die." Addison leans forward and hugs him. "I don't wanna go to hell."

"Then we'll find a way to save you," Addison softly says.

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "We'll find a way to save you."

Dean looks between them, then he nods. A small smile was on his face. "Okay, good."


	11. Mystery Spot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I do own the original characters.

Sam opens his eyes when the music wakes him. He sits up and looks at the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. He looks over to see Dean sitting on the other bed, tying his shoe. "Rise and shine, Sammy!"

"Dude, Asia," Sam disbelievingly asks.

"Come on, you love this song and you know it!"

"Yeah and if I ever hear it again, I'm gonna kill myself."

Dean smirks as he leans over and turns up the radio. "What? I'm sorry, I can't hear you."

The bathroom door opens and Addison emerges, wrapped in a towel. She turns off the radio and glares at Dean. "I'm not afraid to shoot you," she snaps, clearly annoyed.

Addison grabs her bag and walks back into the bathroom. "Guess she forgot to take her bitch free pills this morning," Dean mutters.

"I heard that," Addison shouts. Sam laughs at the annoyed look that appears on Dean's face. They continue getting ready, with Sam using Addison's toothpaste instead of Dean's.

Later, Sam shoots Addison an annoyed look as they wait for Dean, who was walking around the room. "Whenever you're ready, Dean," Sam says.

Dean searches his duffel bag before pulling out a black and red lace bra. He smirks, tossing the garment to Addison. "Look, Ads, I know you want to fuck me, but leaving your underwear in my bag isn't going to help."

"Did you ever think that it might belong to your latest skank of the week," Addison counters, throwing it at his head.

"No, I'm pretty sure that it's yours, slut."

"Ass."

Dean pulls out his gun. "Bingo." He shoves it in the back of his jeans. "Now, who's ready for some breakfast?"

* * *

Sam squeezes Addison's hand as they enter the local diner. The cashier was giving an older man his change as the cook rings a bell. They move past a waitress to an empty booth. Addison slides in with Sam next to her and Dean across from them. "Hey, Tuesday," Dean says, motioning to the specials menu. "Pig 'n a poke."

"Do you even know what that is," Sam amusedly asks.

"My guess is something sausage related," Addison says.

The waitress walks over to them. Her name tag had 'Doris' on it. "Are you three ready?"

"Yes, I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee," Dean answers.

"Make it two coffees and a short stack," Sam tells her.

"I'll have the breakfast platter and a orange juice," Addison says, smiling.

"You got it," Doris replies, before walking away.

"I'm telling you, Sam, this job is small fry," Dean says, leaning back in the booth. "We should be spending our time hunting down Bela."

"Yeah, we should totally do that," Addison sarcastically begins. "Oh, wait. Do you know where she is?"

"Shut up."

"Look," Sam starts. "Believe me, we wanna find her as bad as you do. In the meantime, we have this."

Sam pulls out a newspaper article and brochure out of his jacket pocket. Dean picks up the paper, while Addison picks up the brochure. “All right, so this professor..."

"Dexter Hasselback, he was passing through town last week when he vanished."

"Last know location?"

"His daughter says he was on his way to visit Broward County Mystery Spot."

"You mean the place 'where the laws of physics have no meaning,'" Addison reads aloud, handing the brochure to Dean.

A bell rings as Doris appears with a tray. "Two coffees, black. And an orange juice."

"Thank you," Dean says, as she sets their drinks down.

"And some hot sauce for the—" A bottle falls off the tray and smashes on the ground. "Oh! Whoops - Crap." Doris looks at them. "Sorry." She turns to the kitchen. "Clean up!"

* * *

A dog tied up to a bike rack barks as they walk past it. Sam watches as Addison shoots the dog a distrustful look. He places a hand on her back and she smiles at him. "Sam, you know joints like this are only tourist traps, right," Dean says. "I mean, you know, balls rolling uphill, furniture nailed to the ceiling. The only danger is to your wallet."

"Okay, look, I'm just saying that there are spots in the world where holes open up and swallow people," Sam replies. "The Bermuda Triangle, the Oregon Vortex—"

"The Broward County Mystery Spot," Addison interrupts.

"Well, sometimes these places are legit."

“All right, so if it is legit, and that's a big ass 'if', what's the lore," Dean asks.

"Well, the—"

A blonde girl bumps into Dean. "Excuse me."

Sam shakes his head as Dean checks out the girl. "The lore's pretty fucking nuts actually. They say in these places the magnetic fields are so strong that they can bend space time, sending victims no one knows where."

"Sounds a little X-Files to me."

They pass two guys arguing over how to fit a desk through a doorway. “All right, look," Sam says. "I'm not saying this is really happening. But if it is, we gotta check it out, see if we can do something."

Dean shrugs. “All right, all right. We'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look."

* * *

Sam follows Addison and Dean into the Broward County Mystery Spot. He holds up the EMF meter, while Dean and Addison look around. Dean shines the flashlight on a table hanging from the ceiling. "Wow, uncanny," he retorts.

"I bet they superglued the ashtray," Addison comments.

Dean looks at her for a moment, then turns to Sam. "Find anything?"

"No," Sam answers.

"Do you have any idea what you're looking for?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam's met with two identical skeptical looks. "No."

They continue looking around the exhibit, not noticing a man enter the room. "What the hell are you doing here?"

They turn around to see a man with a shotgun and flashlight. Dean points his gun at him before pointing it at the ground. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. We can explain," Dean says.

"You robbing me?"

"No," Addison quickly answers. "No one is robbing you. Just calm down."

Dean moves to put his gun up. "Don't move," the man exclaims. "Don't move!"

"I'm just putting the gun down," Dean explains.

The shotgun goes off and Dean is thrown back into the wall. "Dean," Sam shouts. Him and Addison rush over to him. "Hey. Hey."

Addison turns to the man. "Call 911!"

"I - I didn't mean to—"

"Now!"

"Hey, hey. No, no, no," Sam says, putting pressure on the wound on Dean's chest. "Not like this." Dean closes his eyes and stopes breathing. "Dean..."

* * *

Sam opens his eyes as the music goes off. He sits up and stares at the radio. Dean was sitting on the other bed, tying his shoe. "Rise and shine, Sammy," Dean brightly says. Sam remains silent, staring in disbelief. "Dude, Asia."

"Dean," Sam says.

Dean reaches over and turns up the volume. "Oh, come on, you love this song and you know it!"

The bathroom door opens and Addison emerges, wrapped in a towel. She turns off the radio and glares at Dean. "I'm not afraid to shoot you," she snaps, clearly annoyed. Sam looks between Dean and Addison, clearly confused.

Addison grabs her bag and walks back into the bathroom. "Guess she forgot to take her bitch free pills this morning," Dean mutters.

"I heard that," Addison shouts.

Still confused, Sam gets ready for the day. As he rinses his mouth out with Listerine, he can't help but keep staring at Dean. Dean spits it out and grabs a towel. "What," he asks.

"I don't know," Sam replies.

The blow dryer turns off and Sam looks over at Addison. "Are you feeling okay, Sam," she asks, concerned.

"No. I think I...man, I had a weird dream."

"Yeah," Dean amusedly asks. "Clowns or midgets?" Sam shakes his head. He looks over at Addison and she smiles at him.

* * *

Sam squeezes Addison's hand as they the local diner. He couldn't shake the weird feeling that he had been having all day. The cashier was giving an older man his change, the cook rings a bell. They move past a waitress to an empty booth. Addison slides in with Sam next to her and Dean across from them. "Hey, Tuesday," Dean says, motioning to the specials menu. "Pig 'n a poke."

"It's Tuesday," Sam questions.

"Yeah," Addison replies, frowning.

Doris, the waitress, walks up to the table. "Are you three ready?"

"Yes, I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee," Dean answers.

"Uh, nothing for me, thanks," Sam replies.

"I'll have the breakfast platter and a orange juice," Addison tells Doris. The waitress nods before walking off.

"I'm telling you, Sam, this job is small fry," Dean says, leaning back in the booth. "We should be spending our time hunting down Bela." Sam looks around the diner, not paying attention. "Hey." Dean snaps his fingers and Sam looks at him. "You with me?"

"What," Sam asks.

"Sam, are you sure that you're okay," Addison asks.

"You don't...You don't remember any of this?"

"Remember what," Dean questions.

"This. Today, like - like - like it's...happened before?"

"You mean like deja vu?"

"No, I mean, like it's - like it's really happened before."

"Yeah, like deja vu."

"No, forget about deja vu. I'm asking you guys if it feels like we're living yesterday all over again?"

"Okay, how is that not deja—"

"Don't," Sam snaps. "Don't say it, just don’t—"

Doris walks over with a tray. "Coffee, black. And an orange juice," she says, setting the drinks down. "And some hot sauce for the—" A bottle falls off the tray. "Oops! Crap." Sam catches before it hits the ground. "Thanks."

Addison stares at him. "Nice reflexes."

* * *

Sam glances at the dog tied up to a bike rack as they walk past it. He watches as Addison shoots the dog a distrustful look. She shrugs and smiles at him. "Sam, I'm sorry, but I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Dean says.

"Okay look, yesterday was Tuesday right? But today is Tuesday too," Sam explains.

"Yeah, no, good, you're totally balanced."

Addison glares at Dean. "Of course we believe you, Sam." He shoots her a look as a blonde girl bumps into Dean. "Alright, it's a little crazy. Even for us. Maybe it was a vision?"

"It's Dingo ate my baby crazy," Dean mutters.

Sam shakes his head. "No, no way. Way too vivid. Okay, look, we were at the Mystery Spot and then—"

"And then what," Dean interrupts.

"Then I woke up." They walk past two men arguing over how to fit a desk through a doorway. "Wait a minute! The Mystery Spot, you think maybe it—"

"Maybe what?"

"We gotta check this place out." Dean glances at him. "Look, just go with me on this okay?"

"Alright, alright, we'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look."

Sam stops. He grabs Dean and Addison's arms. "Wait. What? No."

"Why not?"

"Uh...let's just go now. Right now. Business hours, nice and crowded."

Dean stares at him. "My God, you're a freak."

Addison glares at Dean. “Dean—"

"Okay, whatever, we'll go now."

Sam lets out a relieved sigh. Dean continues walking. Addison grabs Sam's hand and they follow after him. As Dean crosses the street, a car comes out of nowhere and runs into him. "Dean," Addison shouts, running over to him with Sam right behind her. They kneel down next to his body.

Sam turns him over. "Dean, no, no, no, no. Come on, Dean." He looks up to see the old man from the diner looking out the window at them. Sam turns back to Dean. "Hey, Dean. Dean. Dean."

* * *

Sam opens his eyes as music plays from the radio. He sits up and looks at the alarm clock, reading that the day said 'Tuesday.' Dean was sitting on the other bed, tying his shoe. He smiles. "Rise and shine, Sammy!" Sam just stares at him, scared.

After getting ready, the three hunters make their way to the diner. Sam had spent the entire time trying to get Dean and Addison to listen to him. Addison slides into the booth and Sam slides in next to her while Dean sits across from them. "Hey, Tuesday," Dean says. "Pig 'n a poke."

"Would you guys listen to me," Sam says, looking between them. "Because I am flipping out."

Doris walks up to the table. "Are you three ready?"

"He'll take the special, side of bacon, coffee, black. Nothing for me. And she'll have the breakfast platter with orange juice," Sam tells her.

"You got it," Doris replies, then walks away.

Dean smirks. "Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like that."

Addison glares at him. "Shut up, Dean." She places a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam, we're listening. So, you think that you're in a real life  _Groundhog Day_?”

"Yes," Sam breathes, relived that someone was taking him seriously. "Exactly like  _Groundhog Day_." Dean smiles, looking out the window. "So, you don't believe me?"

"It's just a little crazy," Dean replies. "I mean, even for us crazy. You know, like uh-"

"Dingo ate my baby crazy?"

"How'd you know I was gonna say that?"

"Because you said it before, Dean. That's my whole point."

Doris walks over with a tray. "Coffee, black. Orange juice. And some hot sauce for the-" A small bottle falls off the tray. "Oops! Crap." Sam catches the bottle before it hits the floor. "Thanks."

Sam sets the bottle on the table as Doris walks away. "Nice reflexes," Addison says.

"No," Sam says. "Ads, I knew it was gonna happen."

"Okay, look," Dean begins. "I'm sure that there's some sort of an explanation-"

"You're just gonna have to go with me on this alright, Dean? You just have to, you owe me that much!"

"Calm down-"

"Don't tell me to calm down, I can't calm down. I can't because—"

"Because what?"

"Because you die today, Dean."

Dean shoots him a disbelieving look. "I'm not gonna die. Not today anyway."

"Twice now, I've watched you die and I can't. I won't do it again, okay? You're just gonna have to believe me. Please."

Addison rubs Sam's arm. "Hey, whatever is going on, Sam, we'll figure it out. Right, Dean?"

Dean shrugs. "I still think you're nuts, but yeah, whatever this is, we'll figure it out."

* * *

They pass a dog tied up to a bike rack. Sam pays no attention to Addison giving the dog a distrustful look. When the blonde girl bumps into Dean, Sam ignores her. They pass by two men fighting over how to get a desk in a building. "You think this cheesy ass tourist trap has something to do with it," Dean asks.

"Maybe it's the real deal, you know," Sam responds. "The magnetic fields bending space time or whatever."

"I don't know, it all seems a little too X-Files for me."

"Well, I don't know else to explain it, Dean."

"Alright, alright, we'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look."

Sam stops and grabs Dean's arm. Addison stops and looks at them. "No, no, no, no. We can't."

"Why not," Addison asks.

"Because Dean—"

"I what," Dean questions. Sam gives him a look, one that Dean and Addison clearly understood. "I die there?"

"Blown away actually."

Addison places a hand on Sam's arm. "Then we'll go right now," she says.

Dean shrugs and starts to cross the street. The accident from the day before flashes in Sam's mind and he quickly grabs Dean's arm just as a car flies by. Dean laughs causing Addison to glare at him. "What, did he..." Dean trails off.

"Yesterday, yeah," Sam unhappily answers.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Did it look cool like in the movies?"

Sam stares at him in disbelief. "You peed yourself."

Addison shakes her head in amusement. "Of course I peed myself," Dean replies. "A man gets hit by a car, you think he has full control over his bladder? Come on!" He looks both ways, then crosses the street.

Addison glances at Sam as they walk across the street. "Don't worry, Sam," she says. "We'll figure this out."

* * *

The Broward Mystery Spot was crowded when they three of them arrive. It was easy for Sam to spot the owner, Mr. Carpiak. Of course, Sam didn't trust the guy. "Guys, I can't tell you how much I appreciate this," Mr. Carpiak says. "We could use all the good ink we can get."

"How long have you owned this place, Mr. Carpiak," Addison questions.

"Well, my family's been guarding the secrets here since you don't wanna know when."

"So, you'd know if anything strange happened," Sam asks.

Mr. Carpiak laughs. "Strange? Strange happens here all the time. It's a mystery spot."

Sam sees the frustrated look Addison sends him. "What exactly does that mean?"

"Well, uh...it's where the laws of physics have no meaning."

"Like how exactly," Addison asks.

Mr. Carpiak grins. "Take the tour."

Dean stares at him. "The guy who went missing, Dexter Hasselback, he take the tour?"

Mr. Carpiak looks between the three of them, confused. "Uh, hold on a minute, what kind of article is this?"

"Just answer the question," Sam tells him.

"The police scoured every inch of this place, they couldn't find that man," Mr. Carpiak counters. "I never seen him before. We're a family establishment."

Sam steps closer to the man. He was clearly unhappy and starting to get angry. "Listen to me, there's something weird going on here. Now, do you know anything about it or not?"

Mr. Carpiak shakes his head, stepping back. "Okay, look. Guys, um, give me a break. I brought the joint at a foreclosure auction last March, all right? Hell, I used to sell bail bonds."

Addison glances at Dean. He sighs and steps forward. "Okay, Kojak," Dean says, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Let's get some air."

* * *

Sam looks around the street. He hated knowing that anything could happen and that Dean could possibility end up dead. "Well, I hate to say it, but that place is exactly what I thought," Dean says as they walk down a street. "It's full of crap."

"So, what is then, Dean," Sam counters. "What the hell is happening to us?"

"I don't know. All right, let me just-"

"Wait, Dean dies every day right," Addison interrupts, causing them to stop walking.

"Yeah," Sam replies.

"And that's when you wake up?"

"Yeah."

"Then maybe all we have to do is make sure that Dean doesn't die. If we make it to Wednesday, then maybe the time loop stops and we'll be able to figure it out."

Sam stares at her. He hadn't thought of that. "Do you think?"

Addison shrugs. "It's worth a shot."

Dean nods. "I say we grab some takeout, head back to the motel, lay low until midnight." Sam nods. "All right, good. Who wants Chinese?"

Dean turns and takes a step when a desk suddenly falls on him. Sam stares at horrified before noticing the two men that he had always heard fighting. One of the men was staring down from the window, while other holds up the broken rope. "Oh my God," Addison exclaims. "They killed Dean! You bastards!"

* * *

Sam enters the diner with Dean and Addison. It was his hundredth Tuesday. And he had seen Dean die every which way possible. Ranging from choking on sausage, to falling in the shower, to even Addison accidentally shooting Dean. And Sam was no closer to figuring out what was going on. He had torn down the mystery spot, but all it had resulted in was him accidentally chopping Dean's head off. Sam grabs the keys out of the old man's pocket. Dean looks up at the menu. "Hey, Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke," he says as they sit down in a booth. It was always the same, with Addison next to Sam while Dean was across from them.

Sam takes out the keys and places them on the table. "Whose are those," Addison asks.

"The old man's," Sam answers. Dean and Addison look out the window to see the man standing the street, searching for his keys. "Trust me, you don't want him behind the wheel."

Doris walks up to them. "Are you three ready?"

"Yes, we are," Dean replies. "Uh, I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee."

"Hey, Doris," Sam says. "What I'd like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range. You're a terrible shot."

A shocked look appears on Doris' face. "How do you know that?"

"Lucky guess." Sam nods at Addison. "And she'll have the breakfast platter with a glass of orange juice."

Doris nods, then walks away. "So, you think that you're stuck in a time loop," Addison asks.

"Like  _Groundhog Day_ ," Dean reasons.

"It doesn't matter, there's no way to stop it," Sam unhappily replies.

"Jeez, aren't you grumpy?"

Sam glares at him. "Yeah, I am. You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

"Because this is the hundredth Tuesday in a row I've been through and it never stops. Ever. So, yeah, I'm a little grumpy." Sam notices the confused looks on Dean and Addison's face. "Hot sauce."

"What," Addison asks.

Doris walks over with a tray and their drinks on it. "Coffee black and an orange juice." She sets a couple of cups in front of Dean and Addison. "And some hot sauce for the—" A small bottle falls off and Sam easily catches it and places it on the table. "Oh! Whoops - crap. Thanks." Sam tensely smiles at Doris as she walks away.

"Nice reflexes," Dean begins.

"I knew it was gonna happen, Dean," Sam tells them. "I know everything that's gonna happen."

"You don't know everything."

"Yeah, I do."

Dean and Sam lean in. Addison looks between them, amused. "Yeah, right. Nice guess," they both say.

"It wasn't a guess," Sam replies.

"Right, you're a mind reader. Cut it out, Sam. Sam! You think you're being funny but you're being really, really childish. Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and every morning when he wakes up he — okay, enough!"

The both lean back. Dean glares at him. "That's not all," Sam continues. He nods over to the counter. "Randy, the cashier? He's skimming from the register. Judge Meyers? At night he puts on a furry bunny outfit. Over there, that's Cal. He's gonna rob Tony the Mechanic on the way home."

"What's your point," Dean asks.

"My point is, I've lived through every possible Tuesday, I've watched you die every possible way. I have ripped apart the Mystery Spot, burnt it down, tried everything I know to save your life and I can't. No matter what I do, you die. And then I wake up and then it's Tuesday again."

* * *

"The dog," Sam says, as they walk past the dog. He pays no attention to Addison as she shoots the dog a distrustful look, but he does place a hand on her back.

"So, there has to be a way out of this," Addison says.

"Where's my dang keys," Sam says as they walk past the old man, who was searching his pockets. "Excuse me."

A blonde girl bumps into Dean as she passes them. "Excuse me," she says.

Dean looks at her as she continues walking. "She's kinda cute." He stops and grabs Sam's shoulder. "Hey, all the times we've walked down this street, did I ever do this?"

Sam watches as Dean walks over to the girl. "No..." he says to himself.

Dean walks back over to them, holding a piece of paper. "Hundred Tuesdays, you never bothered to check what she was holding in her hands?" Sam shrugs. He honestly hadn't paid any attention to the girl. "This the guy who went missing?"

Sam looks at the picture. It was of an older man, in his late forties/early fifties. "Yeah."

Dean motions behind him. "That's his daughter back there." Sam rips the flyer out of his hand and takes off after the girl. The dog barks at them and Dean looks at it. "Hey, buddy. Somebody need a friend?"

Dean starts towards the dog, but Addison grabs his arm. "Dude, that dog is giving me seriously Cujo vibes," Addison tells him. He shakes her arm off and walks over to the dog. Sam turns as Addison shouts.

* * *

Another Tuesday and they were back in the diner. Dean and Addison were currently eating their respective breakfasts. "So, the police say Dexter Hasselback is a professor, but that's not all he is," Sam says from behind his laptop.

"What is he," Dean asks.

"I talked to his daughter, the guy's quite the journalist. Column's in magazines, a blog. He writes about tourist attractions: mystery spots, UFO crash sites. Gets his kicks debunking them. I mean, he's already put four of these places out of business. Here—"

Sam turns his computer so Dean and Addison can look. "'Dexter Hasselback: Truth Warrior,'" Addison reads. "Sounds like he's dick."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I mean, I've read everything the guy's ever written. He must have weighed a ton, he was so full of himself."

"When did you do all this research?"

Sam shakes his head and stands up. "Come on." Dean chuckles and Sam shoots him a confused look. "What?"

"It's - it's just, it's funny, you know," Dean begins. "I mean, this guy spends his whole life shitting on Mystery Spots and then he vanishes in one. It's kinda poetic, you know? Like, uh - just desserts."

"You're right, it is just desserts," Sam agrees. He glances at the counter as they move past it and stops. A smear of strawberry syrup was on the plate. He turns to see the man who always sat there walk down the sidewalk.

Addison places a hand on his arm. "Sam?"

"Guy has maple syrup for the past hundred Tuesday's, all of a sudden he's having strawberry?"

"It's a free country," Dean states. "Man can't choose his own syrup, huh? What have we become?"

"Not in this diner. Not today. Nothing in this place ever changes. Ever. Except me."

* * *

Waking up that morning, Sam was determined to end his time in the time loop. And he had everything ready. "So, you think you're caught in some kind of what again," Dean asks, after taking a bite of bacon.

"Eat your breakfast," Sam replies, barely glancing at him. His attention was on the man who was finishing up his breakfast.

The man stands up and walks out of the diner. Sam grabs the bag from under the table and stands. "Sam, what's in the bag," Addison questions, sliding out of the booth.

Sam doesn't answer and quickly goes after the man. He pulls out a blood covered stake and drops the bag. He reaches the man and slams him against a gate in an alley. "Hey! Hey," the man says, trying to push him away.

"I know who you are," Sam coldly tells him. He holds up the stake to the man's throat. "Or should I say what."

"Oh, God, please don't kill me," the man pleads.

"Sam," Dean asks. He glances at Addison but she shrugs in response.

"It took me a hell of a long time, but I got it," Sam continues.

"What," the man asks.

"It's your M.O. that gave you away; going after pompous jerks, giving them their just desserts. Your kind loves that, don't they?"

"Yeah, sure, okay. Just put the stake down."

"Sam, maybe you should let—" Addison begins.

"No," Sam interrupts. "There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops! In fact, you'd pretty much have to be a god. Or you'd have to be a trickster."

"Mister, my name is Ed Coleman, my wife's name's Amelia, I got two kids. For crying out loud I sell ad space!"

"Don't lie to me! I know what you are, we've killed one of your kind before!"

Suddenly, the man changes into a familiar face. One that the three of them were sure that they had killed before. The Trickster smirks at him. "Actually, bucko, you didn't."

Sam glares at him. "Why are you doing this?"

"You're joking, right? You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn't I do this?"

"And what about Hasselback," Addison questions, stepping forward.

"That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one." The Trickster laughs. "Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town."

"So, this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over again?"

"One: yes, it is fun. And two: this is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on you, Sam. Watching your brother die every day. Forever."

"You son of a bitch."

"How long will it take you to realize, you can't save your brother no matter what?"

"Oh, yeah? I kill you this all ends now."

The Trickster's gaze widens as Sam presses the stake harder against his throat. A drop of blood appears on the Trickster's neck. "Uh, oh, hey, whoa. Okay, okay, look. I was just playing around. You can't take a joke? Fine, you're out of it. Tomorrow, you wake up, it'll be Wednesday, I swear."

"You're lying."

"If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the dinner."

Sam eases his pressure for a second. "No, easier to just kill you."

"Sorry, kiddo, can't have that," The Trickster replies, before snapping his fingers.

Sam opens his eyes and finds himself back in the motel room, in bed. But instead of Asia playing, there was a different song. Dean walks out of the bathroom. "Were you gonna sleep all day," he asks.

"No Asia," Sam disbelievingly states, standing up.

"Yeah, I know, this station sucks," Dean says, sitting down on the bed.

"You know, I like this station," Addison says, from where she was sitting at the table.

"That's because your taste in music sucks, Ads."

Sam looks at the clock. Instead of seeing 'Tuesday' it said 'Wednesday.' He grins. "It's Wednesday!"

"Yeah, which usually comes after Tuesday." Dean motions to the radio. "Turn that thing off, would you?"

"What are you kidding? This isn't the most beautiful song you've ever heard?"

Addison walks over and sits down on Sam's bed. "Sam, exactly how many Tuesdays did you have?"

Sam shrugs and stands up. He pulls on his partially buttoned up shirt. "I don't know, I lost count. Hey, wait, what do you guys remember?"

"I remember you were pretty wacked out of it yesterday," Dean answers. "And then I remember running into the Trickster. But, no, that's about it."

Sam looks at Addison. She sighs. "I pretty much remember you being pissed at breakfast and then finding Trickster," she tells him.

He nods. "All right, pack your stuff. Let's get the hell out of town, now."

"No breakfast," Dean asks.

"No breakfast."

Dean shrugs and walks out of the motel room. Addison stands up and wraps a hand around Sam’s wrist. "Are you okay," she softly asks.

Sam pulls her into a kiss. He finally felt like he could relax. A gun shot echoes. He pulls back and sees the nervous look on Addison's face. He runs out to the parking lot and knew without looking that Addison was right behind him. Lying on the ground, with blood staining his shirt, was Dean. Sam runs over to him and kneels down. "No, no, no, no. Hey, hey. Come on. Not today, not today, this isn't supposed to happen today. Come on." Addison kneels down next him. Sam closes his eyes and after a moment, opens them. "I'm supposed to wake up."

* * *

Sam glances at a sleeping Addison, who was sitting next to him, as they speed down a dark highway. Six months had passed since Dean had died in that parking lot. And he had spent the entire time searching for the Trickster. Of course, he also hunted everything and anything while on his search. The trunk of the Impala was extremely organized. He always made sure to keep his motel rooms clean, which tended to be difficult at times since Addison was bit of a slob. But earlier Bobby had called, saying that he had finally found the Trickster and it had prompted Sam to hit the road.

Sam and Addison enter the Mystery Spot to see Bobby preparing something. A symbol of some kind had been drawn on the floor. Bobby turns to them. "It's good to see you two," he greets, walking over to him. He gives Sam a hug, but it isn't returned.

Addison, through, warmly hugs him back. "It's good to see you too," she softly replies.

"What are we doing here, Bobby," Sam asks.

"This is the last place we're sure the Trickster worked his magic," Bobby explains.

"So?"

"So, you want this thing? I found a summoning ritual, to bring the Trickster here."

Sam watches as the older hunter walks back to where he was preparing the ritual. "What do you need?"

"Blood."

"How much blood?"

"Ritual says near a gallon and it's gotta be fresh too."

"So, we'd have to bleed a person dry," Addison disbelievingly asks.

Bobby nods. "And it's gotta be tonight or not for another fifty years."

"Then let's go get some," Sam says, turning to leave.

Addison grabs his arm. Sam looks at her. "Sam, I can't let you do this."

“Addison—"

"No, Sam. I am not going to let you kill an innocent person."

Sam glances at Bobby, who nodded in agreement. "Then why'd you bring me here," he coldly asks.

"Why," Bobby questions. "Because it's the only way you'd see me. Because we're trying to knock some sense into you." Sam notices Addison staring at him, a hurt look in her eyes. "Because we thought you'd back down from killing a man."

"Well, you both thought wrong. Leave the stuff I'll do it myself."

Addison shakes her head. "No. No. You're not going to kill—"

"It's none of your damn business what I do," Sam snaps.

"You want your brother back so bad," Bobby starts, grabbing a knife. He walks over to them. "Fine."

"What are you talking about?"

Bobby holds the knife to Sam. "Better me than a civilian."

"Bobby, no," Addison tells him. She turns to Sam. "Sam, you can’t—"

"You're crazy, Bobby," Sam interrupts. "I'm not killing you."

"Oh, now I'm the crazy one," Bobby counters. He shakes his head. "Look, Sam. I'm old. I'm coming near the end of my trail. But you can keep fighting, saving folks; but you both need Dean. So, let me give him back to you."

“Bobby—"

"You, Addison, and Dean...you three are the closest thing I have to family. I wanna do this."

Sam takes the knife. "Okay."

"Sam," Addison exclaims. "No. You can’t—"

"Addison, it's okay," Bobby says, turning around. He kneels down and closes his eyes. "Just make it quick." Sam walks up behind him. "Do it, son."

"Yeah, okay, Bobby," Sam tells him. He pulls out a wooden stake, covered in blood. "But you wanna know why?" He kneels behind Bobby and stabs him with the stake. "Because you're not Bobby."

Bobby groans and falls forward. Sam stands up. "Bobby," Addison shouts, running over to him. She looks back Sam to see the panic building his gaze. “Sam—" Bobby's body shimmers and disappears leaving the stake to fall to the ground.

Suddenly, the stake flies across the room and they turn to see the Trickster. "You're right," the Trickster greets. "I was just screwing with you. Pretty good through, Sam. Smart. Let me tell you, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hand. Holy  _Full Metal Jacket._ "

"Bring him back," Sam demands, stepping towards the Trickster.

"Who Dean? Didn't my girl send you the flowers? Dean's dead. He ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak."

"Just take us back to that Tuesday or Wednesday, when it all started please. We won't come after you, I swear."

The Trickster nods. "You swear?"

"Yes!"

"I don't know, even if I could..."

"You can!"

"True, but that don't mean I should. Sam, there's a lesson here I've been trying to drill into that freakish Cro-Magon skull of yours."

"A lesson? What lesson?"

"This obsession to save Dean, the way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it, just blood and pain." The Trickster glances at Addison. Sam follows his gaze and for the first time sees how exhausted she was. He sees her grief. "Dean's your weakness. The bad guys know it too. He's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go..."

"He's my brother," Sam softly says.

"Yup, and like it or not, this is what life's gonna be like without him."

Tears well up in Sam's eyes. "Please, just...please."

The Trickster scoffs and looks at the ground. "I swear, it's like talking to a brick wall. Okay, look, this all stopped being fun months ago. You're Travis Bickle in a skirt, pal, I'm over it."

"What does that mean," Addison quietly asks.

"Meaning that's for me to know and for Sam to find out." The Trickster meets Sam's gaze and snaps his fingers.

Sam opens his eyes. He was back in the motel room. He sits up, shocked that the Trickster had actually fixed things. Dean walks out of the bathroom. "Were you gonna sleep all day," Dean asks him. Sam glances at the clock. The day on the clock said 'Wednesday.' "I know, no Asia. This station sucks."

"You know, I actually like this station," Addison says. Sam turns and sees her sitting at the table with her laptop in front of her.

"It's Wednesday," Sam states, looking between them.

"Yeah, which usually follows Tuesday. Turn that thing off," Dean tells him.

Sam stands up and tightly embraces Dean. Addison stands and rolls her eyes as Dean awkwardly pats Sam's back. "Sam, exactly how many Tuesdays did you have," Addison asks.

"Enough," Sam answers. He pulls back. "Wait. What do you guys remember?" 

"I remember you were pretty wacked out yesterday," Dean says. "I remember catching up with the Trickster. That's about it."

Sam turns to Addison. "I pretty much remember you being pissed at breakfast and then finding Trickster," she tells him.

Sam nods. He was happy that they only remembered that. "Let's go."

"No breakfast," Dean asks.

"No breakfast."

"All right, I'll go pack the car."

"Wait, you're not going anywhere alone."

"It's the parking lot, Sam."

"Just...just trust me."

Dean shrugs and they three of the start packing up their gear. As Sam zips up his bag and picks up Addison's bag, Dean opens the door. Addison grabs Sam's arm. "Sam, are you okay," she asks, concerned. "Did something else happen with the Trickster?"

Sam weakly smiles at her. "I just had a really weird dream, Ads."

"Clowns or midgets," Dean asks.

"Dean, do you really have to be such an ass," Addison snaps, glaring at him.

"Me? You're one to talk, princess."

Sam shakes his head, listening as his brother and best friend fight. He looks around the motel room, then turns off the light and closes the door before following them down to the Impala.


	12. Jus in Bello

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

The three of them enter the hotel room, guns drawn, and start searching the room. Addison walks into the bathroom, searches it, then walks out to see Sam going through the wardrobe while Dean is searching through some drawers. "Any sign of it," Dean asks.

"Nothing," Sam answers and she frowns.

"Are we sure that this is Bela's room," Addison asks him, placing her gun in the back of her jeans.

Dean holds up different colored wigs. "I'd say so." She nods and pulls out the drawer in the nightstand when the phone rings. Addison looks at Dean, who looks at Sam and he shrugs. Dean picks up the phone, keeping it away from him. "Where are you? Where? I want it back, Bela, now. You understand how many people are gonna die if you do this? Take the only weapon we have against an army of demons and sell it to the highest bidder. I know I'm gonna stop you. Oh, I'll find you sweetheart. You know why? Because I have absolutely nothing better to do than track you down."

The look on Dean's face turns into confusion, right before the door busts open and a group of officers run into the room, guns drawn. "Hands in the air," an officer shouts at them and Addison lets out a frustrated sigh, holding her hands up. "Down on your knees!" Addison gets down on her knees and the officer closest to her, pushes her face down into the carpet. "Down on the ground, now!"

She turns to see Dean and Sam being pushed into the same position as her. The officer pulls her arms back and handcuffs her. "Sam and Dean Winchester and Addison Sloan, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney and have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you at government expense."

Footsteps enter the room and Addison lets groan realizing who had showed up without having to look up. "Hi, guys. It's been a while," Agent Henricksen greets, a smirk on his face.

* * *

The officers lead them into the small town police station and Addison ignores the pain from the officer holding her arm. "Why all the sourpusses," Dean asks, from in his position in the front. She keeps her gaze on the wall, not looking at the other people in the room. Another officer, starts leading them towards the back of the station.

"I'll show you to the cells," the officer says.

"Hey, hey, hey! Watch the merchandise," Dean replies and Addison bites her lip to keep from saying anything. "We're not the ones you should be scared of, Nancy." She glances at the secretary, who was a young woman that was holding a rosary and wearing a silver cross necklace. They're lead into the back of the police station. The officer holding her arm puts Addison in the cell across from where another officer was putting Dean and Sam. She takes a seat on the cot and amusingly watches them try to navigate with the chains around their feet. "Ugh!"

"Dean, come on," Sam says, frustrated with Dean.

"All right, all right. Sit?"

"Yeah."

They move around a bit more and finally take a seat on the cot. "Now, I just need dinner because that was a funny show," Addison comments and Dean glares at her.

"How are we gonna Houdini out of this one," Dean asks.

"Good question," Sam answers. The three of them sit there in silence until Agent Henricksen walks in, heading over to Dean and Sam's cell.

"You know what I'm trying to decide," Henricksen asks them.

"I don't know, what? Whether Cialis will help you with your little condition," Dean sarcastically asks him.

"What to have for dinner tonight," Henricksen continues. "Steak or lobster, what the hell? Surf and turf. I got a lot to celebrate. I mean, after all, seeing you three in chains."

"You kinky son of a bitch, we don't swing that way."

"Now, that's funny."

"You know, I wouldn't bust out the melted butter just yet. You couldn't catch us at the bank, couldn't keep us in that jail."

"You're right, I screwed up. I underestimated you. I didn't count on you being that smart. But now, I'm ready."

"Ready to lose us again?"

"Ready like a court order to keep you in a super-maximum prison in Nevada till trial. Ready like isolation in a soundproof windowless cell so small, that between you and me, is probably unconstitutional. How's that for ready?" Henricksen turns to Addison, since she had sat up during his speech. "Don't worry, Addison. I'm sure the women's super max prison is just as nice. Take a good look at each other, you three will never see each other again." He turns back to see Dean glaring at him. "Aw, where's that smug smile, Dean? I wanna see it."

"You got the wrong guys."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. You fight monsters. Sorry, Dean, truth is your daddy brainwashed you with all that Devil talk and no doubt touched you in a bad place. That's all, that's reality."

"Why don't you shut your mouth?"

"But guess what? Life sucks, get a helmet. Because everybody's got a sob story, but not everybody becomes a killer." Addison hears a helicopter and a light floods the window in Dean and Sam's cell. "And now I have three less to worry about. Mmm, it's surf and turf time." Henricksen walks out of the holding area laughing and she frowns.

"He's suck a dick," Addison comments.

"What clued you in on that," Dean mocks.

"Shut up."

"Bite me."

"Guys," Sam exasperatedly says.

Less than half an hour later, another man walks into the holding area. He wore a windbreaker jacket with the word 'FBI' printed on the back. "Sam and Dean Winchester, Addison Sloan, I'm Deputy Director Steven Groves. This is a pleasure," Groves says. Addison rolls her eyes. She was miserable.

"Well, I'm glad one of us feels that way," Dean tells him.

"I've been waiting a long time for you three to come out of the woodwork," Groves takes out a gun and shoots Dean in the shoulder. He turns and shoots at her, but Addison quickly moves away, only gaining a graze to her arm. Groves, who didn't move away from the Dean and Sam's cell, is grabbed by Sam and fires at the ceiling, when Sam aims the gun away from her.

Addison sees Groves' eyes go black. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica..."

Groves' head shakes. "Sorry I've gotta cut this short. It's gonna be a long night." He throws his head back and the large black cloud comes out, leaving through a vent. Groves' body falls to the ground just as the sheriff runs into the room.

"Alright, put the gun down," the sheriff shouts at Sam, who had taken the gun from Groves.

"Wait, okay, wait," Sam replies, kneeling down as the others come running into the holding area.

"He shot him."

"Sam didn't shot him. He shot Dean and then shot me," Addison quickly says.

"Get on your knees now," Henricksen yells and she does what he says.

"Okay, okay, okay, don't shoot, please. Look, here," Sam slips the gun through the bars. "Here, okay, okay. We didn't shoot him, check the body. There's no blood, we did not kill him."

"Go ahead, check him."

Another FBI agent, Reidy, checks the body. "Vic, there's no bullet wound."

"He's probably been dead for months," Dean says, hand pressed to his wound.

"What did you do to him," Henricksen demands.

"We didn't do anything!"

Henricksen aims his gun at Addison. "Talk or I shoot!"

"You won't believe us."

Addison closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "He was possessed...please don't shoot me."

"Possessed, right. Fire up the chopper, we're taking them out of here now."

Dean scoffs. "Yeah, do that."

Reidy picks up his walkie. “Bill?" They hear static and Addison sends Dean a look. "Bill, you there?" Henricksen motions for Reidy to go check it out and they watch as he leaves the area. The sheriff takes a step and kicks the gun away from the cell. After a few tense minutes an explosion is heard and Addison frowns.

"What the hell was that," Henricksen asks and picks up his walkie. "Reidy? Reidy?" They watch as Henricksen walks out of the holding area, trying to get his partner on the walkie and the others follow him. Addison lets out a sigh and sits down on the cot, as Dean and Sam do the same thing too. The lights go out and the building's backup generator comes on, with the backup lights lighting the holding area.

"Oh, that can't be good," Dean comments as he and Sam look out their small cell window.

Addison sees that the bullet that hit Dean's shoulder has gone through. "Dean, your shoulder."

"Yeah, I know."

"The bullet went through. You gotta put pressure on it, to try and stop the bleeding."

Sam grabs Dean and makes him seat on the cot, grabbing some toilet paper to help stop the bleeding. "Alright, don't be such a wuss," Sam says as Dean groans when he presses down on Dean's wound.

"What's the plan?" Addison turns and sees Henricksen standing there. "Kill everyone in the station and bust you three out?"

"What the hell are you talking about," Dean asks him, gritting through the pain.

"I'm talking about your psycho friends. I'm talking about a bloodbath."

"Okay, I promise you, whoever's out there is not here to help us."

"Agent Henricksen," Addison says, standing at the bars and he looks at her. "You have to listen to us. Everybody in this building is in danger."

"You think?"

"Including us...so if you let us out, we can help."

"Help with what," Henricksen asks and the three of them exchange a look. "You gonna say 'demons?' Don't you dare say 'demons.' Let me tell you something, you should be a lot more scared of me." Addison watches as Henricksen walks out of the room. "How's the shoulder," Sam asks Dean.

"It's awesome," Dean answers tossing the toilet paper on the ground. "I'll live, you know, if we get out of here alive. So either of you got a plan?"

A silence settles over them and Addison lets out a sigh, looking up to see Nancy standing there, still holding the rosary. "Nancy, hi," Addison greets and sends the guys a look, moving over to the bars. "Nancy, we really need your help. See, Dean's been shot and he's bleeding, really bad. So, could you get a towel? Please. We're not the bad guys, I promise." Nancy stares at her for a moment and shakes her head before leaving.

"Nice try, Ads," Dean comments and Addison lets out a sigh as Nancy walks back into the room.

Nancy slowly makes her way towards the cell that she was in, holding a towel. "Thank you so much Nancy," Addison replies, reaching for the towel. Instead of grabbing the towel, she grabs the young woman's wrist. Nancy screams as she's yank towards the cell.

A deputy rushes into the cell holding area. He aims the gun at Addison and she raises her hands. "Try something again, you'll get shot," he warns as Nancy runs out the holding area. "And not in the arm."

"All right."

The deputy backs out the holding area. Once he's gone the guys turn to Addison. "What the fuck was that," Dean demands.

Addison rolls her eyes and holds up the rosary she had taken from Nancy. Sam grins. "Ads, you're a genius." She smiles at him as Dean looks between them.

* * *

Addison winces as she examines the bullet graze on her arm. Dean had the towel to his shoulder while Sam sat next to him. "We're like sitting ducks in here," Sam points out, breaking the silence that had settled over the three of them.

"Yeah, I know," Dean agrees. "Would it kill these cops to bring us a snack?!"

Addison rolls her eyes, fixing her shirt. "How many do you think are out there?"

Dean glances at her. "I don't know."

"However many there are, they could be possessing anyone," Sam says. "Anyone could just walk in."

"It's kind of wild, right? I mean, it's like they're coming right for us. Never done that before." Addison shoots him a disapproving look as Sam frowns. "It's like we got a contract on us. You think it's because we're so awesome? I think it's because we're fucking awesome." Dean finally notices the looks from Sam and Addison and the smile falls from his face. The sheriff enters the holding area and moves over to Addison’s cell. Addison sits up as he unlocks the door. "Well, howdy there, Sheriff."

The sheriff stares at the floor. "Uh, Sheriff," Sam says, standing up.

"It's time to go," the sheriff tells them, walking into the cell. He wraps a hand around Addison’s injured arm and pulls her up before dragging her over to the boys’ cell. His hands shake as he opens the door to their cell.

The boys back up. "Uh...you know what? We're — we're just comfy right here, but thank you,” Sam replies, exchanging a look with Dean.

"Dodd, what do you think you're doing," Henricksen demands, entering the room.

Dodd turns to him. Addison winces when he squeezes her arm. "I'm not just gonna sit around here and wait to die. We're gonna make a run for it."

"It's safer here."

"There's a SWAT facility in Boulder."

Henricksen stands next to Dodd. "We're not going anywhere."

Dodd glares at him. "The hell we're not." Dodd moves to walk out of the cell when Henricksen shoots him in the head. Addison falls to the ground and quickly scoots away as the boys struggle with Henricksen before Sam gets his head in the toilet that had been turned into holy water. The demon fights as Sam performs the exorcism.

The deputy runs into the room. He aims his gun at the boys, but Dean grabs Henricksen's gun and aims back at him. "Stay back," Dean shouts. Sam lifts Henricksen's head for a moment, then shoves it back in the toilet. "Sam, hurry up!"

The demon pushes back against Sam. "It's too late," it says. "I already called them, they're already coming."

Sam finishes the exorcism before releasing Henricksen's body. His body falls on the floor. "Is he..." Nancy softly begins. They turn to see her standing by the door. "Is he dead?"

Henricksen coughs and rolls onto his back. Sam kneels down. "Henricksen, hey. Is that you in there?"

Henricksen pulls himself onto the cot. He stares at Sheriff Dodd. "I uh...I shot the Sheriff."

"But you didn't shoot the Deputy," Dean comments.

"Dean," Addison snaps, glaring at him. 

"Five minutes ago, I was fine, and then..." Henricksen trails of.

"Until some black smoke forced itself down your throat," Addison questions. Henricksen looks up at her, disbelieving. "You were possessed."

"Possessed, like...possessed?"

"That's what it feels like," Sam tells him. "Now you know."

"I owe you the biggest I-told-you-so ever," Dean retorts as he hands Henricksen his gun back.

Henricksen stands up and walks over to the bars. "Officer Amici, keys." Amici hands him the keys and Henricksen unlocks the cuffs around Sam's and Dean's wrists. He walks over to Addison and unlocks the cuffs around her wrists. He looks between the three hunters. "All right, so, how do we survive?"

* * *

Addison sighs as she finishes painting a devil's trap on the floor under a window. A loud rumbles causes her to look up. The lights above her were flickering. She steps away from the window when the building shakes as a black fog hits it. Then the fog disappears and she lets out a deep breath. "Everybody okay," Sam asks as Addison walks into the lobby.

"Define 'okay,'" Henricksen counters.

"Alive or in one piece," Addison answers, moving over to the table of weapons. She picks up her black Colt MK IV with a mother of pearl handle and shoves it in the back of her jeans.

Dean picks up a small bag and opens it. "Right, everybody needs to put these on," he says, handing out amulets. "It'll keep you from being possessed."

Nancy takes one, then looks at the three hunters. "What about you three?"

Dean and Sam pulls down their shirt collars to reveal the anti-possession tattoos they had gotten. Seeing the civilians turn their gaze to her, Addison rolls her eyes and turns around, pulling part of her long sleeve shirt to reveal an identical tattoo on her left shoulder. "Smart, how long have you had those," Henricksen asks.

"Not long enough," Sam tells him, then silence settles over the group.

* * *

The sound of glass breaking and a thud breaks the silence that had settled over the small group. Dean, Addison, Henricksen, and Amici run over to where the window had broken with their guns drawn. Addison shakes her head in disbelief seeing Ruby standing in the middle of the devil's trap. "How do we kill her," Henricksen asks.

"We don't," Sam answers, joining the group.

"She's a demon," Henricksen counters.

Sam pushes down Henricksen's gun. "She's here to help us."

"Are you kidding," Amici disbelievingly asks.

"Are you gonna let me out," Ruby asks, looking at Sam. Sam kneels down and uses his pocket knife to break the devil's trap. Addison looks at Dean and sees his thinly masked look of distrust. "Does anyone have a breath mint? Some guts splattered in my mouth while I was killing my way in here."

Ruby moves past the small group and into the main area. Addison rolls her eyes and follows the demon. "How many are out there," Addison questions.

"Thirty at least, that's so far."

"Lovely."

"Thirty," Dean repeats, standing next to Addison. "Thirty hit men, all gunning for us? Who sent them?"

Ruby turns to Sam. "You didn't tell them," she says. "Wow, I'm surprised."

Addison looks at Sam. He avoids meeting her gaze. "Tell us what," she demands. Sam doesn't say anything. “Sam—"

"There's a big new up-and-comer. A real pied piper."

"Who is he," Dean asks.

"Not he, her. Her name is Lillith."

"Lillith?"

"And she really, really wants Sam's intestines on a stick. Guess she sees him as competition."

"So, you knew about this," Addison questions Sam. He finally looks at her. "Is there anything else that we should know about?" He sighs and looks away.

Ruby scoffs. "How about the two of you have your lovers' quarrel another time? We'll need the Colt." Dean avoids the demon's stare. Addison turns her attention to a poster hanging on the wall, while Sam looks at the ground. "Where's the Colt?"

"It got stolen," Sam confesses.

"I'm sorry, I must have blood in my ear," Ruby coldly says, stepping towards Sam. "I thought I just heard you say that you were stupid enough to let the Colt get grabbed out of your thick, clumsy, idiotic hands." Addison raises an eyebrow. "Fantastic!" She walks over to the window and looks out at the group of demons. "This is just peachy."

“Ruby—" Sam begins.

Ruby holds up a hand. "Shut up. Fine." She turns around to face the group. "Since I don't see that there's any other option, there's one other way I know how to get you out of here alive."

"What's that," Addison asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I know a spell. It'll vaporize every demon in a one mile radius, myself included. So, you let the Colt out of your sight and now I have to die. So, next time, be more careful. How's that for a dying wish?"

Dean stands up from where he was sitting on a desk. "Okay, what do we need to do?"

Ruby smirks. "Aw, you can't do anything. The spell is very specific; it calls for a person of virtue."

"I got virtue."

Ruby laughs. "Nice try, you're not a virgin."

Dean scoffs. "Nobody's a virgin." Ruby cocks in her in the direction of Nancy and the group looks at the young woman who fidgets. "No, no way. You're kidding me, right? You're-"

"What," Nancy asks him. "It's a choice, okay?"

"What? So you — You never..."

"Dean," Addison snaps. "This isn't the time."

Nancy looks at Ruby. "So, the spell. What can I do?"

Ruby walks towards Nancy. "You can hold still while I cut your heart out of your chest."

"What?"

"Absolutely not," Addison says, stepping forward.

"I'm offering a solution," Ruby argues.

"No, what you're offering is to kill an innocent person."

"And what do you think's gonna happen to this girl when the demons get in?"

"We're gonna protect her, that's what," Henricksen says, from where he stood next to Nancy's desk.

"Very noble. You're all gonna die. Look, this is the only way, trust me."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean replies. "There's no way that you're gonna prove to me—"

"Will everybody please shut up," Nancy shouts. Everyone looks at her, stunned. "All the people out there, will it save them?"

"It'll blow the demons out of their bodies. So, if their bodies are okay, yeah," Ruby tells her.

Nancy looks at the ground, then after a moment looks back up at Ruby. "I'll do it."

"Hell no," Henricksen exclaims.

"No, no, you don't need to do this," Dean tells her.

"All my friends are out there," Nancy responds.

"We don't sacrifice people," Henricksen says. "We do that, we're no better than them."

"We don't have a choice," Ruby counters.

"You're choice isn't an option," Addison angrily says.

"Sam, you know I'm right."

Dean and Addison turn to him, but Sam remains quiet. Addison shakes her head. She couldn't believe that he was even considering it. "Sam," Dean questions. Sam looks at him. "What the hell is going on? Sam, tell her!"

Sam looks at Nancy. She sighs before nodding. "It's my decision," Nancy says.

"Damn straight, cherry pie," Ruby replies, smiling.

"Stop," Dean shouts. "Stop, nobody kill any virgins." Ruby glares at Dean. He looks at Sam. "Sam, I need to talk to you."

Addison silently watches as Dean and Sam walk out of the room. She moves over to Nancy. "I know you think that you want to do this," she quietly says. "But you don't. And I'm not gonna let you sacrifice yourself for something that may or may not work."

* * *

Addison looks up when Sam enters the room. He hadn't come back with Dean after they left, but Dean had explained the plan to them. And she had thought it was better then Ruby's plan. "Did you get the equipment to work," Dean asks.

"Yeah," Sam replies. He looks at Addison but she turns her back to him.

"So?"

"So, this is insane."

"You win understatement of the year," Ruby comments.

Dean turns to the demon. "Look, I get it. You think—"

"I don't think, I know. It's not gonna work." Ruby walks towards the doors. "So long."

"So, you're just gonna leave," Sam questions her.

Ruby looks at him. "Hey! I was gonna kill myself to help you win. I'm not gonna stand here and watch you lose. And I'm disappointed, because I tried, I really did, but clearly I bet on the wrong horse. Do you mind letting me out?"

Addison watches Sam stare at the demon. He walks over and breaks the the devil's trap and salt line. Ruby walks out the doors and he fixes the salt line. Addison picks up a shot gun and extra shot gun shells filled with salt before making her way to her post. It was a single door on the right side of the building. She carefully opens the door to see no one outside.

"All set," Dean shouts.

"Yeah," Sam answers, glancing in the direction that Addison went. He was worried about her, but he knew that she could handle herself at the same time.

"Ready," Henricksen yells.

"Yeah," Addison shouts back. She takes a deep breath as she kneels down and breaks the devil's trap.

"Let's do this," Dean yells.

Addison tightly grips the shot gun she steps towards the salt line. She kicks the line, then moves backwards. She looks around the side parking lot. She's tackled to the ground before she can fire a shot. The demon wraps it hands around her neck and squeezes. Addison press the shotgun flat against the demon's chest and brings her feet up before shoving it off. She sits up and quickly fires a shot then runs down the hallway.

She reaches Sam's post to see him fighting with two demons. One was on his back while the other one was fighting him from the front. Addison runs over and slams the butt of the gun into the demon's back. The demon turns it's attention to her and advances. Addison pulls out a flask and splashes some holy water on it. Sam finally gets the demon off his back and they run to the front lobby of the police station where Dean was fighting multiple demons. Addison splashes the rest of her holy water on the demons as Dean and Sam did the same.

Addison notices that the demons had stopped moving towards them. She looks around the room when a demon jumps onto of the desks. The demon hops down and walks over to Sam. Then they're flying to walls, dropping their weapons in the process. "Henricksen, now," Dean shouts.

Sam's voice comes over the speaker system. He had recorded an exorcism and it was playing. The demons groan in pain. Some of them scream, while other try to escape the police station. One by one black smoke flies out of the bodies. A black cloud forms above them, then explodes and dissolves. Addison groans when she falls to the ground. She stands up as Henricksen enters the room. The lights flicker on above them. She lets out a deep breath and looks around.

* * *

Addison flops onto the motel bed. She lays her head on Sam's shoulder and he looks at her. After doing the best the could to help clean up the police station, they had left and checked into a nearby motel. They were all relived that the fight was over and that they would no longer have to worry about the police searching for them. "You're talking to me now," Sam asks, looking at her.

"I was never not talking to you," Addison replies. "Why didn't you tell me? If you know someone wants to—"

"I didn't want you to worry," Sam interrupts.

She didn't want to admit that she was worried about how he would be after Dean's death. So, Addison rolls her eyes. "All right, well...will you at least think about not keeping things like that from me?" Sam remains silent and Addison moves away from him. The toilet flushes and Dean walks out of the bathroom. He rolls his eyes and moves over to the other bed. She enters the bathroom then immediately walks out. "You're disgusting, Dean. Learn to light a match or something.”

“Hey, you can be worse than me at times,” Dean argues and Sam shakes his head in disbelief.

A few hours later, they're lounging in the motel room. Sam was napping while Dean was using Addison's laptop and Addison was giving herself a pedicure. A knock comes from the door and Sam opens his eyes. He and Dean exchange a look before the oldest Winchester answers the door. Ruby pushes past him. "Turn on the news," Ruby coldly greets.

Sam grabs the remote off the nightstand and turns on the local news. "The community is still reeling from the tragedy that happened just a few hours ago," a reporter says. On the screen was a picture of a building in ruins with the caption saying 'Breaking News: Explosion at Monument County Sheriff's Office.'

"Authorities believe a gas main rupture, causing the massive explosion that ripped apart the police station and claimed the lives of everyone inside," the reporter the continues. Sam glances at Ruby, then turns back to the news. He couldn't believe it. Addison covers her mouth in shock. "Among the deceased, at least six police officers and staff including Sheriff Melvin Dodd, Deputy Phil Amici, secretary Nancy Fitzgerald, as well as three FBI agents identified as Steven Groves, Calvin Reidy, and Victor Henricksen. Three fugitives in custody were also killed. We'll continue to follow the story here at the scene, but for now, back to you, Jim."

Ruby walks over to the TV and turns it off. "Must've happened right after we left," Sam says after a moment.

Ruby tosses each of them a small bag. "Considering the size of the blast smart money's on Lillith."

Dean examines the bag. "What's in these?"

"Something that'll protect you...throw Lillith off your trail...for the time being at least."

“Thanks—" Sam begins.

"Don't think me," Ruby snaps. "Lillith killed everyone. She slaughtered your precious little virgin plus a half dozen other people. So, after your big speech about humanity and war, turns out your plan was the one with the body count. Do you know how to fight a battle? You strike fast and you don't leave any survivors so no one can go running to tell the boss. So, next time we go with my plan."

Ruby walks out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Addison looks at the boys to see the guilty looks on their faces. She blinks back the tears and turns her gaze to the ground.


	13. Ghostfacers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Addison glances at the abandoned house as they drive past it. A chain link fence was blocking the entrance and there was a 'No Trespassing' sign hanging on the fence. Neither of which would deter them from entering the house. Dean parks the Impala down the road from the house and they climb out. She stealthily pulls out the ear plugs and hides them in her jacket. There were just times when she couldn't take Dean having the music so loud.

Sam opens the trunk and takes out a couple bags of supplies. They didn't need to go over a plan or rehash about the case they were working. They had spent the days prior doing that. The three of them make their way to the house and climb over the fence. Dean shakes his head in disbelief as Addison slowly climbs down the fence. "What," she quietly asks, bushing invisible dust off.

"Nothing," Dean replies. He starts towards the house. "Princess."

Addison narrows her gaze. She quickly catches up with him and forcefully bumps into him. "Ass," she mutters loud enough for him to hear. Sam smiles as he follows them. Moments like that reminded him of time when things were simpler for them. Silently, they enter the abandoned house. Addison notices the the table full of equipment in the next room. "Hey."

They look at her and she motions to the next room. "Great," Dean comments. They begin searching the house before hearing voices from a one of the rooms. "Freeze! Police officers! Don't move!" Flashlights raised they enter a room to see two men. One was wearing camo gear and was holding a video camera while another camera was strapped to his body. The other man was holding a device. "All right, all right, all right. Take it easy, take it easy."

"Let's see some identification," Sam orders. "Come on, let's see some I.D."

"We are unarmed," one of the men say.

"What - are we under - under arrest," the one in camo stutters, handing over his wallet.

Addison carefully examines the men. Something was familiar about one of them. "Oh God, oh God," the first man mutters.

"Want to explain that weirdo outfit, Mr. uh..." Dean looks at the license in his hand. "Corbett?"

"Whoa, I know you."

Dean glances at him. "Yeah, sure you do, give me some identification, come on."

"Yeah, whoa - whoa - whoa, hold on a second. I know all three of you guys, yeah."

"What," Corbett asks, confused.

"Yeah, huh."

Addison's gaze widens. She remembered Ed and Harry. "Holy shit balls, Batman," she exclaims.

Dean glances at her. "What?"

"It's one of those guys that ran that website."

"What?"

"Uh, west Texas," Sam tells him. "The - the - the tulpa we had to take out, those two goofballs that almost got us killed the...hellhounds or something?"

Realization crosses Dean's face. "Fuck me."

"Yeah, we're not hellhounds anymore, okay," Ed informs them. Addison rolls her eyes. "It didn't test that well."

"Ed, what's going on," Corbett asks.

"They're not cops, buddy. No, not at all."

"Hey, Ed," Addison starts. "You had a partner, right?"

Ed turns to her. A flirty smile was on his face. "Oh, yeah, yeah. He's, uh, he's not as cool as me."

Addison stares at him for a moment, then shakes her head. "Is he around here somewhere," Dean demands.

"He's running around, chasing ghosts. Doing what we do."

"Okay, well, listen, you and Rambo need to get your girlfriends and get out of here."

Ed moves closer to Dean. "All right, listen here, chisel chest, okay? We were here first, we've already set up base camp, we beat you."

Dean turns to Addison and Sam. He chuckles. "They were here first." Sam rolls his eyes. Dean turns and quickly slams Ed into the wall.

"Oh, God," Ed shouts.

"Ed."

Ed fearfully looks at him. "Yeah?"

"Where's your partner?"

* * *

Addison shoves her hands into her peacoat pockets as she follows the guys into what used to be the house's living room. Sam rubs her back and she looks at him, but doesn't smile. "What are you doing at the Morton House, Ed," Dean questions. "Huh? On leap year - what are you thinking?"

"We're here to spend the night, okay," Ed explains. "It's for our TV show."

"You have a TV show," Addison disbelieving asks, glancing at the cameras.

"We're shooting the pilot."

"Great, perfect," Sam says.

"Nobody's ever spent the night here," Corbett says, answering Dean's question.

"Uh, actually, yeah, they have," Dean counters.

"Uh, we've never heard of them," Ed counters.

"Yeah, you know why? Cause the ones that have haven't lived to talk about it!"

"Oh, come on, I don't believe you."

Sam drops the duffle bag he was carrying on the table with a loud thud. He pulls out a stack of papers. "Look, missing persons reports going back almost half a century," he states. "John Graham, stayed on a dare — gone. There are tons more. All of them came to just stay the night through, always on a leap year. The only body they ever found was the last owner, Freeman Daggett."

Ed thumbs through the papers. "These look legit."

"They are legit. Look, Ed, we don't got much time here, buddy. Starting at midnight, your friends are going to die."

Two men and a woman suddenly run into the room. Addison easily recognizes Harry, but she had no idea who the other two people were. "Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God," Harry exclaims. "Guys, guys! Oh my God! Oh my God! We got one! Corbett! Corbett, we saw one! We saw one! It was a full apparition! It was like a class four! It was a spectral illumination!"

"It was nuts," the woman excitedly says. "It was totally amazing!"

"It..." Harry trails off as he notices them. "Hey, aren't those the assholes from Texas?"

"Yes," Ed answers.

"All right," Dean says. "Let's have this reunion across the street, guys."

"Crap," Harry mutters. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Hey, how about we got for some ice cream," Addison suggests. "Dean's treat. Come on, let's go."

"Guys, I think we should listen," Ed agrees.

"Yeah, I say no," Harry responds, joining the woman at the monitors. "Look at this. Look, look. Ed, Ed."

"No, no, look at this," the woman says. "Okay. Honest to God proof, all right?"

Addison watches as video footage appears on the monitor. There was a ghost all right, but it stood there before being shot by an invisible force. She notices the guys move towards the door of the house and joins them. "You think we're off on this," Sam asks. "I mean, that was just a death echo."

"Yeah, but what's it doing here? Did anybody get shot here," Dean replies, looking between Sam and Addison.

Addison shakes her head. "No, not that I could find anyway."

"What's a death echo," the man asks. Addison glances at him and finds him holding a camera in front of his face.

"Look, if we've got a problem here that ghost ain't it," Sam says.

"What's a death echo?"

Addison sighs and turns to the man. "They're ghosts that keep reliving how they died over and over. But mostly in the place that they died."

"It's about as dangerous as a scary movie," Dean tells him.

"So, maybe the echo's not dangerous, but maybe something else is," Sam reasons.

"You're right." They walk back over to the small group. "All right, we need to get out of here, guys. Come on, let's go. Let's go. Let's go. Pack it up."

"What about all of our equipment," the woman asks.

"We'll FedEx it to you," Addison says, guiding her towards the door.

"We got more material," Harry tells them. "We got all kinds of stuff. We'll make you guys recurring guest stars."

"Wait, wait, wait," Ed says, looking around the room. "Where's Corbett?" A scream echoes throughout the house causing the group to stop in their tracks. "That was Corbett."

"Corbett," Harry shouts, running towards the stairs with Ed, the woman, and the guy with the camera.

"We'll get him," Sam tells them, trying to stop them. "Go back! Guys! Shit!"

Addison shakes her head as she and the guys follow the Ghostfacers. The rooms she searches are empty save for the one with the Ghostfacers and Dean. She enters the room with Sam. "So, no sign of Corbett," she says. "How about we go downstairs?"

"No, that was Corbett," Harry argues. "Didn't you hear that?"

"Go, go, go, come on," Sam orders, trying to lead the Ghostfacers out of the room.

"Here, we go, here we go," Dean says. "Keep it moving, keep it moving."

Sam notices the guy with the camera trying to stay behind them. "Hey, hey, hey. Watch him, watch him."

Addison walks over to him. "What's your name?"

"Spruce," the camera guy answers.

"Okay, Spruce, keep the fucking camera out my face or I'll break it," Addison threatens. "Got it?" Spruce nods. "Good. Downstairs. Now."

Spruce quickly moves past them. "You're hot when you're mad," Dean states causing Addison to stare at him.

"Well, it's 12:04, Dean," Sam says as they step off the stairs. "You good? You happy?"

"Yeah, I am happy."

"Let's go hunt the Morton house, you said. It's our Grand Canyon."

"Sam, I don't want to hear it."

"You got two months left, Dean. Instead, we're gonna die tonight," Sam angrily points out, slamming a chair against the front door in hopes of it opening

"Whoa! What the hell is going on," Spruce asks.

Sam glares at him. "I'll tell you what's going on. Every door, every window, I'm guessing every exit out of this house, they're all sealed."

"But w-why are they sealed," the woman asks.

"It's a supernatural lockdown, okay," Dean explains. "Whatever took Corbett doesn't want us to leave and it's no death echo. This is a bad mother fucker and it wants us scared."

"Or it just wants us."

"Uh, guys, the camera's fritzing again," Spruce tells them.

"Whoa, whoa, guys," Ed says. "The EMF's starting to spike. This is a big one."

A ghost suddenly appears in the room. It was a man who was stumbling around. Addison turns to the Ghostfacers, who were all amazed at the sight of a ghost. "Is the same echo from earlier?"

"No, it's a different guy," Spruce answers.

"Multiple echoes," Dean questions. "What the hell's going on?"

"Don't look at me," Addison replies.

"Okay, all right, all right. All right." Dean walks over to the echo. "Uh, hey, buddy! Hey, hey, wake up! You're dead! Hello?"

"What's he doing," Harry asks. "What's he doing?"

"Sometimes you can snap an echo out of it's loop," Addison explains. "You have to reach the part of the ghost that's still human. But in order to do that you have to have a connection to the ghost."

"Come on! Wake up! Be dead! Hey! Hey!"

A noise echoes around them. Addison looks around the room as does everyone else. "Sam, do you hear that?"

"Yeah," Sam replies. "What is it?"

"Snap out of it, buddy," Dean shouts at the echo. "Come on, what are you waiting for? You're gonzo! You're dead! Hey!" A bright light appears as the noise gets louder. Addison grabs Sam's arm as an invisible force slams into the ghost. The echo gets dragged along the floor for a second before disappearing.

* * *

Addison rubs her forehead as she joins Dean, Sam, and the Ghostfacers to search the house. Her head was killing her and having cameras in her face wasn't helping things. "Dude, there's no record of any of this here," Dean says. "No one got shot here. Obviously, no one got run over by a fucking train."

"Stay close," Sam tells the Ghostfacers.

"Did the echoes take Corbett," Maggie asks.

"No," Addison answers as Dean tells Maggie 'yes.' They glance at each other. "We don't know. We have no idea what's going on here. That's what we're trying to figure out."

"All right, stay close," Sam tells them. He glances at Maggie and her camera. "Okay, look, uh, death echoes are ghosts, okay? Now, ghosts, they usually haunt places where they lived or where they died."

"Except these mooks didn't live or die here," Dean points out.

"Right."

"So, what are they doing here," Maggie asks.

"Hey, give the lady a cigar," Dean mocks. Addison rolls her eyes. "All right, seriously, does looking at this nightmare through that camera make you feel better or something? I mean..."

"Um...I...uh...well, yeah. Uh, yeah. I think so."

Dean stares at her for a second. "Oh."

They enter a room. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. Sam takes a framed piece of paper off the wall. "Freeman Daggett, house's last owner, officially commended for twenty years of fine service at the Gamble General Hospital."

"He's a doctor?"

"Janitor," Addison answers, examining the room.

"This looks like his den. When'd you say he died - '64?"

"Yeah, from a heart attack."

Maggie picks up a brown wrapped object. "What are these, c-rations?"

Dean takes it from her. "Yeah, army issued, three squares." He notice the multiple boxes around the room. "Like a lifetime supply."

"God, is that all he ate?"

"One stop shopping."

Addison tries opening a cabinet, but only finds it locked. "Guys," she calls out. "This one's locked."

"Oh, come on, guys, this is ridiculous," Ed says. "I mean, how the hell is this supposed to find Corbett, huh? We should be digging up the friggin floorboards right now."

Dean joins her and pulls open the cabinet. Sam ruffles through through the papers on the desk. He picks up a brochure. "Huh, 'survival under atomic attack,' an optimist," he says.

Addison grabs a small box out of the cabinet and sets it on the desk. She tosses out a couple of random pieces of paper. Dean picks one up. "Taxidermy," he reads.

"Ew," Addison mutters, handing Dean a toe tag.

"You said Daggett was a hospital janitor," Dean asks as Sam joins them.

"Yeah," Sam replies.

"Uh, we got three toe tags," Addison says. "Death by gunshots, a train accident, and a suicide."

"Ew."

"What," Ed asks, looking between the three hunters.

"Well, that explains why all the death echoes are here." Ed and Harry exchange a confused look. "They're here because their bodies are here somewhere in the house, right."

"Daggett brought the remains home from the morgue...to play," Dean tells them.

After a couple of seconds, realization crosses Ed's and Harry's faces. "Ew," they says.

"That's nasty, dude," Spruce comments.

Dean looks around the group, then frown. "Wait a minute," he says. "Son of a bitch." Addison looks at Sam as Dean walks out of the room. Sam motions to the Ghostfacers and she looks at the group. Maggie was missing.

Addison rolls her eyes and turns back to Sam. "I hate this case," she quietly tells him. Sam rubs her back as she turns back to the box of papers.

"Harry," Ed shouts, running after his friend who had followed Dean to search for Maggie. "Harry! I got an 8.6 and climbing fast. Something huge is coming. Look, something big is coming."

Addison lets out a deep breath and frowns when she sees it mist. “Sam—" A bright flash cuts her off. She opens her eyes and no longer sees Sam standing next to her. "Sam? Sam!"

* * *

Addison rubs her face as she and Dean search the house. The Ghostfacers were attempting to help, which didn't help things. "Dean, I'm sorry," she quietly tells him. He may not have said anything, but she knew him. "He was standing next to me one minute then he was gone. Maybe if I—"

"Addison," Dean snaps. She stares at him. He shakes his head and starts down the hallway. She grabs his arm, intent on finding out what his problem was when she hears sounds of fighting. "You got to be fucking kidding me." They enter a room to see Ed and Harry having a slap fight.

"Oh my God," Addison mutters in disbelief as Dean breaks up the fight.

"What the fuck are you doing!? Cut it out! We're down by two people." Dean walks out of the room. "Sam! Sammy!"

Addison and the Ghostfacers catch up with Dean in the room they were in earlier. He's searching through the box still on the desk. "Dean, what are you doing," Harry questions.

"Okay, so Daggett was a cold war nut, okay? He was — he was an amateur taxidermist. He liked to slow dance with cadavers and all he ate were c-rations. So what the hell are we looking for?!"

"Horrible little life," Maggie comments.

"I'm such a idiot," Addison exclaims, darting out of the room.

Dean runs after her and grabs her arm. Her foot slips causing her to almost fall, but Dean quickly wraps his arm around her waist. “Ads—"

"Dean, he was a Cold War nut who lived a lonely life," she tells him, before pushing him away and continuing down the stairs.

"Where are you going," Maggie asks as her and the Ghostfacers follow them.

"People like Daggett, the ones that were really scared of the Soviets, built bomb shelters," Addison explains. "We're guessing he has one."

"And I'll bet you you it's in the basement," Dean says, opening a door. A set of stairs led down to a dark area. He, Addison, and Spruce start into the basement when the door suddenly slams shut.

"Um, who closed the door," Spruce asks.

"It did. It wants to separate us." Dean walks back up to door. "Ed! Listen to me!"

"What," Ed shouts back.

"There's some salt in my duffle. Make a circle and get inside."

"Inside your duffle bag?"

"Did he really just ask that," Addison disbelievingly asks.

"In the salt, you idiot," Dean shouts at Ed. He moves down the stairs with Addison and Spruce on his trail. Once in the basement, Dean and Addison search for where the door leading to the bomb shelter could be.

"Hey, can I ask you guys something," Spruce says.

"Shoot," Addison replies, moving a table.

"Earlier, you and Sam...he said you had two months left?"

"Yeah, it's complicated, a while ago, Sam..." Dean trails off. He looks at Spruce. "No, no, no. I'm not gonna whine about my fucking problems to some fucking reality show. I'm gonna do my fucking job."

"Is it cancer?"

"Shut up."

Spruce turns to Addison. She shakes her head. "Absolutely not," Addison tells Spruce.

"Ads, you hear that," Dean questions.

Addison joins him by a metal cabinet. "Sounds like music."

"Yeah, it's coming from behind this wall."

Addison stands back as Dean pushes the cabinet to the side. "Wow, you're strong," Spruce comments. Dean just raises his middle finger in response. A door was there and Addison pulls it open.

"Sam," Dean shouts, shooting Daggett with rock salt.

Addison runs over to where Sam was sitting and tightly embraces him. She doesn't pay any attention to the corpses sitting around the table. "Are you okay," she asks. "Why are you wearing a party hat?"

"Oh, no, Corbett," Spruce says.

Addison turns to where he was standing and sees a body slumped over. "Ads," Sam quietly says. She turns back to Sam, only to find him and Dean working on freeing him. The three of them and Spruce walk out of the bomb shelter.

"So, what's this Daggett guy's problem anyway," Spruce asks as they head towards the stairs.

"Loneliness," Sam answers.

"He's never head of a RealDoll," Dean questions.

"No, no, no. Daggett was the Norman Bates, stuff-your-mother kind of lonely. I mean, that's why he lifted those bodies from the morgue, threw himself a birthday party except they were only ones who would come. Anyway, so, at midnight, he sealed them in the bomb shelter and went upstairs and O.D.'d on horse tranqs."

"How'd you learn that," Addison asks.

"Cause he told me."

Dean scoffs. "Oh, yeah. Okay, so now that he's dead, what? Same song, different verse, trying to get people to come to his party?"

"Pretty much, yeah, stay forever."

"Are those real bullets," Spruce asks, watching Dean loads his shotgun.

"It's rock salt," Dean tells him, then hands the shotgun to Sam. He rams his shoulder into the door at the top of the stairs but it nothing happens.

"Seriously," Sam says, glancing at Spruce. "You're still shooting?"

"Apparently it's therapeutic," Addison remarks, smirking. "It almost made Dean open up."

Dean glares at her. "Fuck you."

"Oh, you wish."

"Uh, guys," Spruce says. "Something's coming. Oh my—"

Spruce is thrown to the ground when Daggett suddenly appears. Addison ducks as Sam shoots Daggett. She moves over to Spruce and kneels down. She helps him sit up. "Are you okay," she asks. Spruce stares over her shoulder and Addison turns to see Daggett. The ghost throws her into a wall, then does the same with Sam and Dean.

Addison sits up, watching as Sam stands up. "Hey! Hey, asshole," Sam shouts. "Come here!" Daggett throws him once again into the wall. Then Corbett appears in the room and grabs Daggett from behind. The two ghosts have a short struggle then disappear in a flash of light.

The guys and Addison stand up. They look each other over, making sure that they were all okay. They ignore Spruce asking if they were okay. "Can we get the fuck out of here now," Addison asks.

"I second that," Dean mutters as they walk up the stairs.

* * *

Addison shifts in her seat. Less than a week had passed before the Ghostfacers had called Sam and asked if they were interested in watching the rough cut of their pilot. Unconsciously, she runs a hand through her hair. "So, guys, what do you think," Ed asks.

"You know, I kind of think it was half awesome," Dean replies.

"Half awesome," Maggie excitedly says. "That's full on good, right?"

"Absolutely," Addison answers, smiling. "It's amazing how you guys were able to honor Corbett while exploiting his death."

"Yeah, that's real tight rope you guys are walking," Dean agrees.

"All right, guys," Sam says, standing up. Addison and Dean follow suit and they start towards the door.

"No, that's reality," Ed says, causing them to stop and look at him. "Yeah, Corbett gave his life searching for the truth and it is our job over here to share it with the world."

"Right, well, um, our experience, you know what you get when you show the world the truth?"

"A straightjacket or a punch in the face," Dean answers. "Sometimes both."

"Yeah," Addison tells them.

"Oh, come on, guys," Harry says, walking over to Ed. "Don't be 'facer haters because we happen to have gotten the footage of the century."

Dean shares at look with Sam and Addison. "You got us there."

"Yeah," Sam says.

"Yeah, well, we'll see you guys around."

The three of them walk out of the Ghostfacers' office, which was the basement slash garage of a house. "We clean?"

Shouting comes from the garage as they pass the door. "I think we're clean," Addison says, climbing into the Impala.

"Electromagnet wiped out every tape and hard drive they have," Dean comments.

"World just isn't ready for the Ghostfacers," Sam responds.

Dean starts the Impala. "That's too bad, I kind of liked the show."

"It was okay," Addison says. "Was my hair really that bad?" Neither of them say anything. "Guys? Guys."


	14. Long Distance Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Addison shoves the last of the hot dog in her mouth. Dean was sitting next to her on the bench, talking on the phone. Seeing Sam heading towards them, she crumples up the paper and tosses it into a nearby trash can. "Hey," she greets, standing up. "What'd the professor say?"

"The professor doesn't know crap," Sam answers.

"Shocking," Dean retorts. He tosses a can to Sam. "Pack your panties, Sammy. We're hitting the road."

Dean starts to where the Impala was, but Sam stops him. "What? What's up?"

"That was Bobby. Some banker guy blew his head off in Ohio, they think there's a spirit involved."

"So, you two were talking a case?"

Addison watches as Dean takes a couple of steps away from his brother. "No, we were actually taking about our feelings. And then our favorite boybands — yeah, we were talking a case."

"So, a sprit? What?"

"Yeah, well, banker was complaining about some electrical problems at his pad for like a week. Phones going haywire, computers flipping on and off."

"Uh huh..."

"This is not ringing your bell?"

"Well...sure, yeah. But, Dean, we're on a case."

"Who's?"

"Yours."

Dean shakes his head disbelief. "Right. Yeah. Could've fooled me."

"What the hell else have we been doing lately other than trying to break your deal," Sam questions.

Dean stares at his younger brother. "Chasing our tail, that's what. Sam, we've talked to every professor, witch, soothsayer and two bit carnie act in the lower forty-eight and nobody knows squat. And we can't find Bela. We can't find the Colt. So, until we actually find something, I'd like to do my job."

"Well, there's one thing we haven't tried yet."

"No, Sam—"

"Dean."

“No—"

"We should summon Ruby."

"I'm not gonna have this fight with you."

"She says she knows how to save you."

"Well, she can't."

Sam scoffs. "Oh, really? You know that for sure?"

"I do."

"How?"

"Because she told me, okay?"

"What?"

"She told me, flat out, that she could not save me. Nobody can."

Addison easily sees the heartbroken look that briefly appears on Sam's face. "And you just somehow neglected to mention this to me," Sam sadly asks.

"Well, you know, I really don't care what that bitch thinks and neither should you so..." Dean trails off as he starts to leave.

"So, what? Now you're keeping secrets from me, Dean?"

Dean turns back to him. "You really wanna talk about who's keeping secrets from who," he counters. Sam stares at him for a second then walks past him. "Now, where are you going?"

"Guess I'm going to Ohio," Sam replies, not looking at him.

Addison sighs and looks at Dean. "Don't," Dean says, going in the same direction as Sam.

"Can't you cut him some slack," Addison softly asks. She shoves her hands in her hoodie's pockets. "You know that he isn't going to stop trying until the hellhounds come for you."

"Well, aren't you just a pocketful of sunshine."

"I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine," Addison amusedly says, walking past him. "I got a love and I know it's all mine."

"I hate you."

Addison laughs. "Oh, I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine."

* * *

The newly widowed woman, Mrs. Waters, leads the trio into a home office. It was easy to tell she was stressed out over everything. "I found him there," Mrs. Waters says, motioning to where a light pink spot was on the pristine white wall.

Addison turns to the woman. "Can you tell us everything you saw, Mrs. Waters," she softly asks the woman.

"You mean besides my dead husband?"

"Just...everything else you saw, please," Sam says.

Mrs. Waters sighs. "There was ah...blood, everywhere. The phone was ripped from the wall, his favorite scotch on the desk. What else could you possibly wanna know?"

"Why was the phone ripped from the wall?"

"I don't know."

"You mind if I take a look?"

Mrs. Waters waves a hand. Addison joins Sam as he picks up a phone off the desk. "I already went over all this with the other detectives."

Dean glances at her from where he was looking at something. "We'll be out of your hair in no time, ma'am."

Addison watches as Sam scrolls through the list of names on the caller ID. She frowns at one number. "Mrs. Waters, what time did your husband die?"

"Sometime after eleven," Mrs. Waters answers.

Dean glances at Sam and Addison. Sam lightly taps the caller ID. "How about strange phone calls," Dean questions. "Receive any of those lately? Weird interference, static, anything like that?"

"No." He stares at her. "No."

"Mrs. Waters, withholding information from the police is a capital offense-" Sam clears his throat and Dean turns to him. Sam looks down at the phone for a moment. Dean rolls his eyes and turns back to Mrs. Waters. "In some parts of the world, I'm sure."

"A couple of weeks ago, uh, there was this..."

"This what?"

Mrs. Waters sighs. "I woke up one morning, I heard Ben in his study, I thought he was talking to a woman."

Addison frowns. "Why would you think that?"

"Because he kept calling her 'Linda.' The thing is...I picked up the other line and...nobody was there. Ben was talking to nobody."

"There was nothing," Sam clarifies.

"Just static."

"Did you ever ask Ben about his phone call," Addison asks.

Tears well in Mrs. Waters eyes. "No, I should've, but no."

"Did he ever say who Linda was," Sam questions.

"What difference does it make," Mrs. Waters yells, through her tears. "There was no one on the other end!"

* * *

Addison walks out of the bathroom, towel drying her hair. She tosses the towel in the direction of the bathroom before flopping down on the bed that Sam was sitting on. "Linda's a babe," Dean states, from where he was sitting at the table. "Or was."

"Find her," Addison questions, looking at Sam.

"Yeah, Linda Bateman. She and Ben Waters were high school sweethearts."

"So, what happened," Sam asks, sitting up.

"A drunk driver hit 'em head on. Ben walked away."

"So, his ex is calling from the grave," Addison theorizes.

"You would think, but Linda was cremated. So, why is she still floating around?" Dean closes Addison's laptop and turns to them. "How about that, uh, caller ID?"

"Turns out it's a phone number," Sam explains.

"A phone number," Addison disbelievingly asks. "I mean, it's not like any number I've seen."

"Yeah, because it's about a century old, Ads. From back when phones had cranks."

"So, why use that number to reach out and touch someone," Dean questions.

"You got me there, but either way we should run a trace on it."

"Well, how the hell are we gonna trace a number that is over a hundred years old?"

* * *

The trio follow Mr. Clark down to the basement of the local telephone company. He was a balding middle aged man. "We don't get many folks from HQ down here," Mr. Clark says.

"Yes, well, the main office mentioned that there would be a lunch," Dean says causing Addison stare at him for a moment before shaking her head.

"Well, I'm sure we can arrange something." A fly buzzes around Addison and she swats at it. "The man you folks wanna be speaking to is right this..." Sam swats at the fly as it flies towards him. "I know...Sorry. Got something of a hygiene issue down here, if you ask me." They enter a room to see a dark haired man sitting at a computer. Various machines were around the room. "Stewie." The man in the chair turns around with a guilty look on his face. Soda cans and empty chip bags were lying on the desk. Addison rolls her eyes seeing the porn on the computers. "Stewie! What did I tell you about keeping this place clean?"

"Spam mail," Stewie lies, closing the windows on the computer. "Spam mail."

Mr. Clark sighs. "Stewie Meyers. Mr. Campbell, Mr. Raimi, and Mrs. Baker."

"I don't know how this all got here."

Mr. Clark smacks Stewie on the back of the head. "From headquarters." Stewie quickly turns back around with a nervous look on his face. "You give them whatever they need."

"Thank you," Dean tells Mr. Clark as he walks out of the room. Addison and Sam nod at him.

"So...can I help you," Stewie asks, looking between the three of them.

Dean glances in the direction that Mr. Clark had went. "Is that uh...Busty Asian Beauties dot com."

"No." Addison rolls her eyes when moans come from the computer's speakers. Stewie turns and mutes the computer before changing the screen. "Maybe."

"Word to the wise. Platinum membership, worth every penny. Huh."

Sam stares at him for a moment. "Right. Anyway." He takes out a piece of paper with the phone number on it. "We're here to trace a number."

"Where did you get this," Stewie asks.

"Off a caller ID," Addison answers.

"Oh no, that's impossible."

"It hasn't been used in a few years, we know," Dean explains.

Stewie scoffs. "A few years. It's prehistoric. Trust me nobody is using this number anymore."

"Sure," Sam says. "Could you run it anyway."

"Sure. Why don't I just rearrange my whole life first."

"Listen, Stewie," Addison begins, moving towards him. She puts a hand on the back of his chair and pushes him towards the computer. "You have at least six different violations here. And that does not include the disgusting porn on your hard drive. So, when my partner says 'run the number', I highly suggest that you run the number."

Stewie glances at Sam and Dean and finds hard looks identical to the one Addison was giving him. He turns to the computer and begins looking up the number. Addison steps back a satisfied look on her face. "Holy crap."

"What," Sam asks.

"I can't tell you where the number comes from," Stewie explains, grabbing a piece of paper from the printer on the desk. "But I can tell you where it's been going."

"What do you mean?"

Stewie hands Sam the paper. "Ten different houses in the past two weeks all got calls from the same number." Dean and Addison join Sam to look at the list. "So...are we done here? Cause I was sorta busy."

Dean smiles at him. "Right." Addison shakes her head and walks out of the room with Sam as Dean nods at Stewie, a knowing look on his face.

* * *

Addison looks over the house she and Sam pull up in front of it. It was just like all the other houses in the suburb. They had split up the list from the telephone company, with Dean taking half and Addison and Sam taking the other half. Dean had been insistent that Addison go with Sam and she thought he was getting them prepared to do cases without him. They climb out of the rental car and walk up to the house.

Sam knocks on the door and a middle aged man opens the door. A little boy was playing on the floor behind him. "Yeah," the man greets.

"Hello, sir. We're with the phone company," Sam replies.

"We didn't, uh, call the phone company."

"Oh, no sir. See, we're paying you a visit because we've had a lot of complaints from the neighborhood," Addison lies.

"Complaints?"

"Yes, sir. Dropped calls, static, even strange voices on the other end of the line?"

"No, we haven't had any of that here."

Sam notices a teenage girl standing on the stairs with a spooked look on her face. He turns his gaze back to the man. "Nothing?"

"No."

"Okay, uh, great. Just thought we'd check, thanks."

"No problem. Okay, let's go. Come on, Simon."

The man closes the door and Addison starts towards the car. She glances at Sam to see him staring through the window on the door. "Sam?" He joins her as she nears the car.

Sam unlocks the car and Addison moves to open the door. "No way you two work for the phone company." They turn to see the teenager had followed them.

Addison and Sam exchange a look. "Sure we do," Sam replies.

"Since when does a couple of phone company employees drive a rental or wear cheap clothes," the girl counters.

"Yeah? Well, maybe we're both keeping secrets."

"Why did you ask my Dad if we heard strange voices on the phone?"

"Why," Addison questions. "Did you hear something?"

The girl pauses. "No."

"My mistake..."

"Lanie."

"My mistake, Lanie. I just thought that you might have."

"Well, I didn't, okay?"

"Okay. We're sorry to have bothered you," Addison replies.

Sam notices the slightly spooked and sad look on Lanie's face. "Because you know...if you did, then I would have told you that we've been right where you're standing right now. Hearing things, even seeing things that couldn't be explained. Maybe we would have been able to help out a little bit. Anyways..."

Sam and Addison start to climb into the rental car. "Hey, wait," Lanie calls out. They look at her, waiting. "Maybe...maybe I've been talking on the phone with...with my mom."

"That's not strange," Addison says.

"She's dead...like three years now dead."

"How often does she call you," Sam questions.

"A few times. It started a week ago. I thought I was, like, crazy or something."

"Well, we can tell you one thing for sure and you're gonna have to go with us on this okay?" Lanie nods. "You're not crazy."

* * *

The moment that his cell phone starts ringing, Addison reaches over and takes out of Sam's pocket, causing him to stare at her. "What," she asks. He shakes his head, a light smile on his face. She smirks at the name on the screen, hitting the speaker phone button. "Sloan and Winchester, demon hunters extraordinaire. How can we help you today?"

"Stiffs are calling people all over town," Dean tells them.

"Yeah, tell us about it," Sam replies.

"I just talked to an eighty-four year old grandma who's having phone sex with her husband who died in Korea."

"I didn't need that mental picture," Addison says, shivering.

"Completely rocked my understanding of the word 'necrophilia.'"

"So, what the hell's going on here, Dean," Sam asks.

"Beats me, but we better find out soon. This place is turning into spook central."

"Yeah. All right, we'll call you later."

"Ads?"

"Yeah," Addison replies.

"It's Winchester and Sloan."

* * *

Addison stares at her phone, willing it to ring. She couldn't help the small flare of jealously after learning that Dean had received a call from John. "I mean Dad? You really think it was Dad," Sam asks from where he was sitting on the bed in their motel room.

Dean shrugs, walking around the room. His phone was sitting on the table, right next to Addison's. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Well, what did he sound like?"

"Like Oprah. It was Dad. He sounded like Dad. What do you think?"

"What he say," Addison asks, tearing her gaze from her phone.

"My name."

Addison frown. "That's all?"

"Yeah, the call dropped out."

"Why would he even call in the first place, Dean," Sam asks.

"I don't know, man. Why are ghosts calling anybody in this town? But I mean, other people are hearing from their loved ones. Why can't we? Its at least a possibility, right?"

A skeptical look appears on Sam's face. "Yeah, I guess."

Dean sits down on his bed. "Okay, so what if...what if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back?"

"What are you talking about," Addison asks, shooting Sam a confused look.

"What do I say?"

Sam shrugs. "'Hello?'"

Dean stares at him. "'Hello?'" Sam nods. "That's what you come back with? 'Hello?'" He shakes his head and grabs his jacket before walking out of the motel room.

Addison sighs and turns back to her laptop. "Dean's such a drama queen," she mutters.

* * *

Sam looks up from Addison's computer when the door opens and Dean walks in. He shrugs off his jacket and tosses it on his bed. "Find anything," Dean asks, walking over to the mini fridge.

"After three hours, me and Addison have found no reason why anything supernatural would be going on here," Sam replies.

"Wow, you know, you'd think a couple of Stanford and Yale educations and a high school hookup rate of 0.0 would produce better results than that."

Sam shoots him an unamused look. "Hilarious."

"Sammy, you and Ads are just looking in wrong places, pal."

"And what are the right places, Dean?"

"The motel pamphlet rack," Dean answers, dropping a pamphlet on the computer. "Milan, Ohio. Birthplace of Thomas Edison."

The bathroom door opens and Addison walks out, wrapped in a towel that stopped mid thigh. A leer appears on Dean's face. "Put your tongue back in your mouth, Dean," Addison tells him as she walks over to her duffle bag. "So, what about Thomas Edison?"

Sam scoffs and looks up from the pamphlet. "You're kidding." Dean tears his gaze from Addison and grins at Sam, a proud look on his face.

* * *

Addison shoves her hands in her jacket pockets as she follows the tour group. Dean and Sam were behind her. The group enters the parlor filled with Victorian style furniture. Items were on display behind velvet ropes. "And here we have one of the museum's most unique and treasured possessions," the tour guide says, motioning to a small phonograph object in a wooden box. "Thomas Edison's 'Spirit Phone.' Did you know that Mr. Edison, while being one of America's most beloved inventors, was also a devout 'occultist?'"

Addison rolls her eyes. "Yeah, who wanted a monopoly of the newly created film industry," she mutters.

"We are walking, we're walking. And we are not touching that. And we are walking," the tour guide says.

"What a moron." She turns to face the guys, who are staring at her. "What?"

"Snob," Dean states, lightly smirking. Sam lightly laughs as Addison glares at him.

"Ass."

Sam pulls out his EMF meter and turns it on. He waves it over the spirit phone. "Anything," Dean asks him.

"Nothing," Sam replies.

"What do you think?"

"Honestly? It kind of looks like an old pile of junk to me."

Dean walks around the display. "It's not even plugged in."

"Maybe it doesn't work like that."

"Okay. Maybe it's like a radio tower, you know, broadcasting the dead all over town."

"Could be."

"Well, you know, the caller I.D.'s a hundred years old, right? Right around the time this thing was built."

"So, what makes it start working all of a sudden," Addison asks.

Dean shrugs. "I don't know. But as long as the moldy are calling the freshes around here, it's the best reason we got."

"Yeah, maybe," Sam reluctantly agrees.

A hopeful looks appears on Dean's face. "So, maybe it really is Dad."

"Well, then, we should finish the tour," Addison says. "I mean, we did have to pay for it, might as well finish it." She turns and catches up with the group. Despite hoping that ghosts were calling loved ones, she knew that it wasn't possible. But she didn't have heart to tell Dean that.

* * *

Addison quietly enters the motel room carrying a tray of coffee and a bag filled with pastries. Dean was sitting at the table with her laptop and papers scattered around him. He had explained about the late night phone he received from John. Sam had went to check on Lanie after the teenager had called early that morning, while Addison went to pick up breakfast. She sits down at the table. "Don't," Dean says, glancing at her.

Addison shrugs and opens the paper bag. "I wasn't going to say anything." The door opens and they turn to see Sam. "Hey."

"That girl, Lanie," Sam begins, sitting down at the table. "Her mom's ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night."

"That sucks," Dean comments.

"Yeah, it does. What are you doing?"

"I think Dad's right. I think the demon is here." Dean hands them the stack of papers. "Check it out."

Sam looks through it as Dean walks over his duffel bag. "What is this? Weather reports?"

"Omens, demonic omens. Electrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks."

"Odd," Addison comments, staring at Dean. "I don't remember there being any lightning storms."

Dean glares at her. "Well, I don't remember you studying meteorology as a kid either, Addison. But I'm telling ya, that bastard's been tailing me, wearing some poor dude's meat."

"And it's following you because," Sam asks him.

"I guess I'm big game, you know? My ass is too sweet to let out of sight."

A disbelieving look crosses Sam's face. "Okay, sure."

Dean walks over and rips the papers out of Sam's hand. "Don't get too excited, Sammy. You might pull something."

"Dean, look, I want to believe this, man. I really do—“

"Then believe it! I mean, if we get this sucker, its Miller time."

"Yeah, that's another thing. Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon, I mean, not just send it back to hell, but kill it."

"I checked it out," Dean counters, walking back over to the table. He grabs a piece of paper. "This is heavy duty Dark Ages, fifteenth century."

"Yeah, I checked on it too, Dean. And so did Bobby," Sam argues.

"Okay. And?"

"Look, it definitely is an exorcism, okay? There's just no evidence that it can kill a demon."

"No evidence it can't."

"Oh, Dean, come on, man—"

"Hey, as far as I know, the only one of us that's actually been to hell is Dad, okay? Think maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there, like which exorcisms work?"

"Maybe it does, okay? Look, I hope it does too, but we just got to be sure," Sam counters, standing up.

"Why aren't we sure?"

"Because I don't know what's going on around here, Dean. I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits."

"Wow, man! A couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash, Sam, people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts!"

"Did John tell you where to find the demon," Addison asks.

Dean pulls out his phone. "I'm waiting on the call!"

Sam sighs. "I told Lanie I'd stop by."

"Oh good, yeah. No, you go hang out with jailbait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen. Meanwhile, I'll be here, you know, getting ready to save my life." Sam remains quiet as he heads towards the door. "You are unbelievable, you know that? I mean, for months we've been trying to break this demon deal. Now Dad's about to give us the fucking address and you can't accept it?" Dean shakes his head in disbelief. "The man is dead and you're still butting heads with the guy!"

Sam looks at his older brother. "That is not what this is about."

"Then what is it?"

"The fact is, we got no hard proof here, Dean. After everything, you're still just going on blind faith!"

"Yeah, well, maybe! You know, maybe that's all I got, okay?"

Sam sighs. "Please, just please don't go anywhere until I get back, okay, Dean? Please."

Dean sits down at the table across from Addison. Sam turns to her. "Go," she mouths, ignoring the glare that Dean sends her. Addison watches as he leaves, then looks at Dean. "Hey, you know that I have your back on this." She stands up. "Besides, if this goes horribly wrong...well, I'm not going to let you die alone."

"You're a pain in the ass," Dean tells her. But Addison knew that deep down, he was happy she had stayed with him.

Addison shrugs. "And you're a dick."

* * *

Addison slaps Dean's hand as he reaches for the mouse on her laptop. The lavender creature runs through the woods. Dean leans back in his seat. "You're such a nerd," he says. She shoots him annoyed look. "A hot nerd."

"I don't play it all the time," Addison counters. She rolls her eyes when another creature much like hers appears on the screen. "I swear this dude is always on here when I play. Please, doing the moonwalk will not impress me."

The phone suddenly rings and they look to see Dean's phone lit up. He quickly grabs it. "Dad?" Addison shuts her laptop and watches him. "Where's the demon?" He writes something down on a piece of paper and hangs up his phone, then stands up.

"Dean, are you positive that you want to do this," she asks him. The only response she gets is Dean walking out of the motel room. Addison quickly grabs her coat and runs after him. They remain quiet during the drive. Dean parks the Impala in an alley, then climbs out and takes a duffle bag out of the trunk. She follows him to an abandoned house.

"Hello," Dean calls out, looking around the entry way. Addison walks up the stairs. After finding the rooms empty, she makes her way back downstairs to find Dean painting a devils trap under a rug. Silently, she pick up a jug of water and drops a rosary in it.

They wait in a tense silence, each lost in their thoughts. Headlights shine in through a window and Addison flattens herself against the wall. Her grip tightens on the jug of holy water. She watches as Dean looks between the front door and the back door, confused. The back door suddenly bursts open and the demon enters, firing a shot gun. Addison darts into the living room and the demon shoots in her direction. She grabs her arm in pain, dropping the jug.

As the demon starts to reload his shotgun, Dean appears and slams his fist into the demon's face. He continuously punches the demon causing him to drop the gun. The demon gets a few hits in before tossing Dean onto a table. Dean head butts the demon and the demon falls to the ground. Addison runs over and grabs the gun as Dean fights the demon in the direction of the devil's trap. They smash through a pair of doors into the living room. She sees Dean grab a handgun from the demon and he empties before tossing it across the room.

Addison runs into the room and kicks the edge of the rug to reveal the devil's trap. Dean pulls out a piece of paper from his back pocket. "What is this," the demon asks.

"Your funeral," Dean coldly says. "Croacs sancta, seek meedy loaks. Non draco—"

"Did you to do this to my daughter too?"

Addison's gaze widens as the demon steps out of the devil's trap. She didn't have to look at Dean to know that he was just as confused. "How'd you get out," she asks.

"Did you do this to my daughter too?"

"Wait," Dean says, holding up his hands. He moves in front of Addison. "This is a mistake."

"You killed her," the man shouts, rushing at Dean.

Addison quickly moves back as the man tackles Dean to the ground. "Wait, stop!"

"You killed her, you son of a bitch!" He punches Dean a few times. "She was nine years old!" Addison slams the butt of the gun into the man's face. Dean stands up as she aims the shotgun at the man. "Why did you kill her?"

"We're sorry about your daughter, but we didn't kill her," Addison explains.

Confusion crosses the man's face. "Then what are you doing here?"

Addison glances at Dean. "I don't know," he answers.

* * *

Dean lets out a groan as he wipes the blood off his face. Bruises were slowly starting the form. The bathroom door opens and he glances to see Addison. She wore a long sleeve shirt and a pair of shorts. They both thought she was lucky to only have been grazed by the bullets. "You look like crap," she tiredly says, moving to the bed she was sharing with Dean.

He watches as she slides under the covers and buries her face in the pillow. Dean turns his attention back to the mirror after he hears her faint snore and continues cleaning off his face. The motel door opens and he looks to see Sam enter, his own face covered in bruises. "I see they improved your face."

Sam scoffs as he moves over to the sink and mirror. "Yeah, right back at you."

Dean nods, then drops the wash cloth on the counter. He sits down at the edge of the bed and takes off his shoes. Sam had told him everything over the phone earlier to him and Addison. "So, Crocotta, huh?"

"Yep."

"That would explain the flies."

"Yeah, it would." Sam splashes water on his face. He dries off his face before sitting down on his bed. "Hey, um...look, I'm sorry it wasn't Dad."

"I gave you a hell of a time on this one."

"Dean..."

"No, you were right."

"Forget about it."

"I can't. I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way out of this. I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing...you know, Hell...For real, forever and I'm just..."

"Yeah."

Dean glances at his brother. Neither of them notice Addison was sitting up and watching them. "I'm scared, Sam. I'm really scared."

"I know."

"I guess I was willing to believe anything, you know, last act of a desperate man."

Addison wraps her arms around Dean, catching him off guard. "Dean, there's nothing wrong with having hope."

"Hope doesn't get you jack squat, Ads. I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, you know? And the only person that can get me out of this thing is me."

Sam looks at him. "And us."

Dean shoots him a disbelieving look. "'And us?'"

"What?"

"Deep revelation, having a real moment here, and that's what - that's what you come back with? 'And us?'"

Sam shrugs. "Do you want a poem?"

Dean waves him off as Addison moves to sit next to him. "Moment's gone." He grabs the remote off the nightstand and turns on the TV. "Unbelievable." Addison shoots Sam a soft smile as Dean takes out three beers from the cooler sitting between the beds. They both knew that Dean even admitting that he was scared was better than nothing. And that they were going to try to save him.


	15. Time is On My Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

Addison watches as Dean splashes water onto the man tied to the chair. The man screams. A devil's trap was painted on the ceiling. Sam was standing next to her, with an exorcism in his hand. "Stop," the demon screams as his skin sizzles.

"You ready to talk," Dean coldly asks.

"I don't know. I don't know anything."

"Oh, you hear that? He doesn't know anything."

"We heard," Addison replies, keeping a cold gaze on the demon.

"I'm telling you the truth," the demon says.

"Oh, you are? My God, then I owe you an apology. Allow me to make it up to you." Dean grab's the demon's face and pours holy water down his throat. Dean steps back. "I'm gonna ask you one last time. Who holds my contract?"

The demon looks up. He laughs. "Your mother. Yeah, she, uh, showed it to me right before I bent her over."

Dean grabs the demon's throat. "I want a name. Or else."

"Or what? Hmm? You gonna squirt your holy water in both ends? Please. Brother, that's like a flea bite compared to what's coming to me if I tell you jack. Do what you want. The only thing I'm scared of is the demon holding your ticket."

Addison shoots Sam a worried look. He, too, was worried. Sam reads the exorcism as Dean kneels in front of the demon, who groans in pain. "How does that feel? Does that feel good?"

"Go ahead. Send me back to hell. Because when you get there, I'll be waiting for you, with a few pals who are dying for a nice little meet and greet with Dean Winchester."

Dean stands up and moves away from the demon. "Should I," Sam asks.

"Send him some place he can't hurt anyone else," Dean says, turning his back on the demon. Addison grabs his hand and squeezes.

An hour later, Addison walks back into the abandoned house's living room to find Sam on the phone. She smiles at him and flops down on the couch. She throws an arm over her face as Dean enters the room. Sam hangs up his phone. "You guys bury the body," he asks.

"Yeah, poor schmuck," Dean answers, grabbing a beer out of a cooler. "It's like these demons ride 'em hard just for kicks." He opens the beer and takes a sip, while moving towards the couch. He shoves Addison's feet off and sits down. "What's the phone call about?"

"Remember that thing in the paper yesterday?"

"Stripper suffocates dude with thighs?"

"The other thing."

Addison moves her arm and looks at Sam. "Are you talking about the guy went to the hospital with his insides on the outside?"

"His liver was missing actually, Ads. Anyways, I just found out something pretty damn interesting."

"I think getting your liver stolen is interesting on it's own, Sam."

Sam shakes his head as he sits down in the empty. "The dead body? Covered in bloody fingerprints. Not the victim's."

Addison sits up, clearly interested. "Okay, great," Dean comments. "My man Dave Caruso'll be stoked to hear it."

"Those fingerprints match a guy who died in 1981."

"Zombie," Addison questions.

"Maybe."

Dean chuckles. "Yeah, zombies do like the other 'other' white meat. Huh. Speaking of, what do you care about zombies?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been on soul saving detail for months now and we're three weeks out and all of a sudden you're interested in some hot zombie action?"

Sam shrugs. "Hey, man, you're the one who's been all gung ho to hunt I just thought I'd be doing you a favor."

"No, no, no, no. I didn't say I didn't want to do it, okay? I mean, obviously, I wanna hunt some zombies."

"Okay, fine. Whatever."

Addison watches as Dean nods and walks out of the room. She turns back to Sam to see happy look on his face. She stands up and moves over to him. She leans over, trapping him between the chair and her. "You're planning something, Sam Winchester," she states.

Sam laughs. “I’m not planning anything, Ads.”

Addison shoots him a disbelieving look as she steps back. Dean looks between the two of them as he enters the room. "Let's go kill some zombies," she says, brightly smiling.

* * *

"Yup, the rest of the body was intact," the coroner tells them. Addison raises an eyebrow at the middle aged man. She glances at the medical degree hanging on the wall behind the coroner's desk. Next to it was a photo of a group of young men in suits, but what caught her attention was the emblem in the lower left corner. "The liver was the only organ missing."

"Now, where the liver was ripped out, did you happen to notice any, ah, teeth marks," Dean asks.

The coroner stares at them. "Can I see your badges?"

"Of course, sure," Sam answers as the trio shows their fake badges.

"Fine, so you're cops and morons."

"Excuse me," Dean counters. "No, no, we're - we're very smart."

"The liver was not ripped out." The coroner opens a small door and pulls out a table. Addison frowns as she examines the body laying on the morgue table. Most of the body had been stitched back together. "It was removed. Surgically. By someone who knew their way around a scalpel. Didn't you read my report?"

"Of course we did. Oh, it was, uh, it was riveting. It's a real page turner. Just delightful."

The coroner glares at them. "You done?"

"I think so."

"Please go away."

"Okay."

"Sure," Sam agrees and the three of them walk out.

Addison pauses and looks back at the morgue. Seeing that the boys were occupied, she reenters the morgue only to be greeted by a glaring coroner. "Can I get a copy of your report," she sweetly asks. "My dumbass partners lost our copy."

"Why should I," the coroner questions.

"Because I went to Yale, just you like you, doctor. Go bulldogs." A disbelieving look appears on the coroner's face. "My ex is Wesley Bennet. And as a former bonesman, doctor, you know exactly who he is."

Fifteen minutes later, Addison meets up with Sam and Dean outside the hospital. "Where the hell have you been," Dean asks.

Addison holds up the file. "Getting a copy of the coroner's report." The brothers exchange disbelieving looks. "What? He was a bonesman. We did the secret handshake and he gave it to me."

* * *

Addison grimaces and turns away from Sam's laptop. She watches as Dean unwraps a hamburger, then glances at her own chicken sandwich. She shakes her head before pushing it away. "So, I got a theory," Sam says.

"Yeah," Dean asks, mouth full.

"Dean, you're disgusting," Addison comments.

Dean glares at her. "Yeah, I talked to Mr. Giggles' doctor," Sam continues. "Turns out his incisions were sewn up with silk."

"That's weird," Dean replies.

"Yeah, nowadays it is, but silk used to be the suture of choice back in the early nineteenth century." Sam turns his computer to Dean. Pictures of early surgeries were on the screen. "It was really problematic. Patients would get massive infections. The death rate was insane."

"Good times."

Addison smirks. "You know, uh, doctors at that time used maggots to stop infections from spreading."

"Addison, I'm eating."

"The maggots would eat all the infected tissue. And when the victim without his liver showed up at the hospital, they found maggots in him. And I'm guessing the missing kidney guy had maggots in him too."

Dean shoots her an annoyed look. "Addison! I'm eating!" He stares at his burger for a moment, then drops it on the table. "All right, let me get this straight. So, people are getting ganked."

"Yeah," Sam tells him.

"Right, a little  _Antiques Roadshow_  surgery, some, uh, some organ theft. Why is this all sound familiar?"

"Because you heard it before. When you were a kid. From Dad." Sam opens John's journal and puts it on the table between Dean and Addison. "Doc Benton. Real life doctor. Lived in New Hampshire, brilliant and obsessed with alchemy. Especially how to live forever. So, in 1816 Doc abandons his practice—"

"Right, yeah nobody hears from him in like twenty years. And all of a sudden people start showing up dead.

"Dead or missing an organ or a hand or some other kind of part."

"So, whatever he was doing actually worked," Addison questions. "When he'd need a new body part, he'd just replace it."

"I thought Dad hunted him down and took his heart," Dean argues.

Sam shrugs. "Yeah, I guess the doc must have plugged in a new one."

Dean sets John's journal down and picks up his burger. "All right, where's he doing the deed?"

"According to this, Benton's picky about where he sets up his lab. He likes dense forest with access to a river or stream or some kind of fresh water."

"Why," Addison asks.

"Because that's where he likes to dump the bile, and intestines, and fecal matter," Sam explains. He laughs at the look on Dean's face. "Lost your appetite yet?"

Dean closes his eyes for a moment, then looks at his burger. "Oh, baby, I can't stay mad at you." Addison shakes her head as he takes a bite.

* * *

 

Addison finishes tying her Converses, then joins Dean and Sam at the table. A map of a local forest was spread out, with red circles on it. Sam points to one of the circles. "So, these are all old hunting cabins. They've mostly been abandoned for years," he tells them.

"Then what the hell are we waiting for," Dean asks. Suddenly, his phone rings. "Bobby? I'm listening. Is that like a Cleveland Steamer? And now? And he thinks its Bela?" Addison looks up at that. She exchange a look with Sam. "She's used that before. Well, that's kind of a sloppy move isn't it, getting in contact with one of your old friends. Thanks, Bobby, we're on our way. Okay." Dean snaps his phone shut. He grabs his leather jacket of his bed. "Come on, we're going after Bela."

"What," Sam asks. He moves in front of the door. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second—"

"Come on, get your stuff, the clock's ticking."

"Look, look, I think we should stay here and finish the case."

Dean scoffs. "Are you insane?"

"Dean, there's no way she still has the Colt. That was months ago. She probably sold it the second she got it."

"Well, then I'll kill her. Win win."

"Dean..."

"Sam, we're going."

"No."

Dean turns to him. "Why the hell not?"

"Dean, this here now. This is what's gonna save you."

"What? Chasing some Frankenstien?"

"Chasing immortality. Look Benton can't die. We find out how he did it, we can do it to you."

"What are you talking about?"

"You have to die before you go to hell, right? So, if you can never die—"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait a second," Dean interrupts. "Did you know this was Doc Benton from the jump?"

"No." Dean stares at him. A guilty look crosses Sam's face. "Look, I was hoping—"

"So, the whole zombie thing, you were lying to me?"

"I didn't wanna say anything till I was sure, Dean. All I'm trying to do is find an answer here."

"No, what you're trying to do is chase Slicey McHacky here and kill him? No, you wanna buy him a fucking beer. You wanna study him."

"I was just trying to help."

"You're not helping. You forget that if I welch on this deal, you die. Guess what, living forever is welching."

"Fine, then whatever the magic pill is, I'll take it too."

"Oh, what is this - Sid and Nancy? No. It's just like Bobby's been saying. We kill the demon that holds the contract and this whole damn thing wipes clean. That's our best shot."

"Even if you had the Colt, Dean, who you gonna shoot? We have no idea who holds the ticket," Sam argues.

"Well, I'll shoot the hellhounds then before they slash me up. Now, you coming or not?"

"I'm staying here."

"No, you're not. Cause I'm not going to let you wander out in the woods alone to track some organ stealing freak."

"Stop," Addison exclaims. They look at her, as if remembering she was in the room. "Look, I'll stay with Sam and we'll go after Benton." Shock appears on Dean's face for a split second. "Hey, as much as I hate Bela, I think going after Benton is the more important thing. You know, since he's actually killing people."

"Look, man, we're trying to do the same thing here," Sam points out.

"I know," Dean reluctantly agrees. "But I'm going. So, if you two wanna stay, stay." Sam nods and moves to stand next to Addison. Dean walks over to the door and opens it. He looks back at them. "Sammy, Ads, be careful."

"You do the same," Addison says. Dean walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. Sam lets out a sigh and Addison looks at him. She rubs his back, then turns and sits down at the table.

* * *

Sam parks the dark blue Jeep Liberty they had gotten from a local rental company on a backwoods road. He grabs the map out from the visor and they climb out. Addison laughs when he locks the car. "Sam, really," she amusedly asks.

"Shut up."

Addison shakes her head, a smile on her face. She reaches into his pocket and grabs the keys. "I'm driving back."

Night falls as they search the woods and the numerous hunting cabins. They enter the fifth cabin of the night and start searching through the belongings. Sam finds a dark red journal with a symbol that he had seen in John's journal on the cover. He picks it up and puts it in his jacket as Addison slowly pulls open a trap door. Quietly, they walk down into the basement. Plastic sheets are hanging up. Addison moves the flashlight around the room before seeing a figure laying on a table. She walks over to it, with Sam right behind her.

A man was on the table. They see the surgical instruments on a table by the wall. Addison touches the man's neck and shakes her head. Sam looks around the room and finds another figure, this one a woman, strapped to a table. A gasp causes Addison to turn from the surgical table and make her way over to Sam. "It's okay, we're here to help you. We're here to help you, we're gonna help you. Okay," he whispers to the woman. Addison sees the wound covered in maggots on the woman's arm and searches for a rag.

Sam unstraps the woman and slowly starts to pick her up. Addison wraps up the woman's arm. Seeing that the woman was about to scream, Addison quickly covers her mouth. "I'm sorry," she says.

A door opening and closing causing them to look above them. Addison switches off the flashlight. The woman starts to panic, but Sam covers her mouth and shushes her. Addison spots a window and pulls off the boards as quietly as she can. She squeezes through the window and turns to help the woman out. Sam crawls out and picks up the woman.

They run through the woods as quiet as they can. Addison lets out a relived breath as they reach the Jeep and digs the keys out of her pocket. Sam opens the back door and helps the woman in. "Okay, watch your head. Watch your head."

Addison climbs into the driver's seat. "Shit."

Sam looks up to see Addison searching under the seat. “Ads—"

"I can't help that you're like fifty feet tall, Sam!"

She finally manages to move the seat forward and starts the Jeep. He shakes his head and slams the backdoor closed before climbing into the passenger seat. The driver's side window suddenly smashes. A pale man with surgical scars on his face reaches in and grabs the back of Addison's head and slams her head into the steering wheel. Sam reaches over and punches Benton as she puts the Jeep in reverse. She slams her foot on the gas pedal and the Jeep flies down the road. Benton lets go and falls to the ground. Addison stops the Jeep and puts it in drive.

"Yippee-ki-yay mother fucker," Addison says, slamming the gas pedal down. The Jeep speeds at Benton and runs over him. "Holy shit! Did you see that?"

Sam glances at the woman in the backseat, who was watching them with a scared look on her face. He shoots her a comforting glance before turning back to Addison. " _Die Hard_?"

Addison shifts in the seat. "Shut up."

* * *

Addison sits her iPhone on the table. Sam was sitting across from her, looking through the journal he had taken from Benton's cabin, something that he been doing since they dropped the woman off at the hospital. "Well, the hospital says that that lady is going to be fine. Just needs some surgery and stuff," she says.

"That's good," Sam replies, not looking up.

She sighs and stands up. She pulls the journal away, despite Sam's protests. "Addison, this is the key to saving Dean. We figure this—”

"You need to take a break," Addison tells him. She places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "A five minute break, Sam. If you don’t take a break, then you’re gonna go crazy. You’re not gonna do anybody any good if you don’t relax for five minutes.”

“And what do you suggest I do, Ads?”

Addison shrugs. “I don’t know. Whatever helps you relax, Sam. Watch some porn or something.”

Sam laughs as his phone starts ringing. "Dean."

Addison sigh and stands up. "I'm going to get something from the vending machines."

He smiles at her before turning his attention back to Dean. Addison pulls her hoodie close as she steps into the cool night air. The vending machine was at the edge of the building. She looks over the machine before making a decision to get some chips. After the machine drops the chips in the bottom, she kneels down and grabs them. A hand wraps around her neck. A cloth is pressed against her face, forcing her to inhale the chemical. Addison scratches at the hand, dropping the chips and her wallet in the process. As the chemical takes effect, her eyes grow heavy. She sags against the person holding her.

* * *

Groaning, Addison slowly wakes up. She looks around and recognizes the basement of Benton's cabin. She tries moving her arms, but finds herself strapped down to the table in the middle of the room. Her heart races as footsteps walk down the stairs. Benton appears in her line of vision. A surgical mask covered the lower half of his face. "You can relax," he tells her. "It's all gonna be okay. Ain't nothing gonna happen here that you got to worry about. And your chances of coming out of this procedure alive...very, very high."

"You'll have to forgive me. See, I like having all my original parts," Addison says.

Benton smiles and she sees a small, round surgical tool in his hand. She watches as he heats the tool up. "You think I'm some kind of monster, don't you? Well, I gotta tell you, I have never done one thing that I did not have to do. This whole eternal life thing is very high maintenance. Something goes bad, like my eyes here, you gotta replace them." Benton touches her forehead and Addison tries jerking her head away. "You have pretty eyes. I'll enjoy having them."

"You don't want my eyes. I wear contacts," Addison nervously replies. He moves over to her holding the tool. She fearfully watches as he lower the tool to her face. "I really do wear contacts. I have such bad eyesight because I've spent way too much time in front of a computer."

Benton pauses for a second, places the tool on her face and slowly starts to remove her eye. Addison screams, hoping that it would throw him off for a second. Gunshots ring out. Benton steps back, taking the tool from her face. Dean and Sam keep shooting Benton until he falls to the ground. "Shoot all you want," he taunts, moving towards them.

Dean shoots him a few more times. Benton throws him into a cabinet. Dean pulls out a knife and stabs him in the heart. Sam rushes forward and undoes the straps around Addison.

Benton laughs and looks at the knife. "A knife? What part of immortality do you not understand? Pity about the heart though. It was a brand new one."

"Good. Should be pumping nice and strong. Sending this stuff throughout your whole body," Dean coldly says. He holds up a glass bottle. "See, I picked up your little bottle upstairs and dipped the knife in it."

Benton falls to the ground. Dean turns to them as Sam helps Addison sit up. Blood trails from her left eye. "Are you okay," Sam asks, wiping the blood away. She winces as Dean joins them.

“Yeah, I’m fine," Addison breathes and slides off the table. Dean moves to pick her up, but she pushes him away. He rolls his eyes and scoops her up. “Fuck you. I can walk.”

“You almost got your eye ripped out, Addison,” Dean snaps. Addison huffs with annoyance, but wraps her arms around his neck anyway. Neither of them notice Sam watching them with a thoughtful look on his face.

* * *

Dean glances in the rearview mirror and sees Addison fast asleep. A stolen blanket from a motel room was wrapped around her with her glasses askew. Doc Benton had been buried in an old fridge and left to let nature take it’s course. Bela had surprised them earlier by calling and telling them the name of the demon that held his deal. “How long have you been in love with Addison,” Sam asks.

Dean frowns and looks at his younger brother. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Come on, Dean. I tell that you Benton has her and you race—” 

“I was already on my way back.”

“You guys have been fighting more.”

“We always fight.”

“You’ve been picking fights with her over every little thing.”

Sam shakes his head and turns to look out the window when his older brother remains silent. Dean tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Keep an eye on her.”

"What?"

“Keep an eye on Addison.”

Sam laughs. “She’s a grown woman, Dean. She can take care of herself.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Look, I promised Patrick that I would keep an eye on her. So, just do it.” Sam shakes his head and looks out the window. Dean glances in the rearview mirror. And he does everything he can to ignore the pain that was slowly filling him.


	16. No Rest for the Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

Dean looks up from the book he was looking through when a mug appears next to him. Addison sadly smiles at him and pushes a mug of tea towards him. She takes a sip of her tea. "It's chamomile," she softly says. "It helps you relax."

“What makes you think I need to relax,” Dean argues.

“Uh, because you’re about thirty hours away from getting ripped apart by hellhounds.”

“Thanks for that mental image, Ads.”

Addison rolls her eyes and pushes the mug forward. “Will you just trust me and drink some?”

“No thanks.” Dean looks down at the book. He had to look anywhere but at her. While he didn't have many regrets in his life, not being with Addison was a regret that he had. 

"With the exception of Christmas, you haven't really done the whole 'It's my last year, sleep with me' argument."

"I care too much about you to do that you, Addison," Dean honestly tells her.

All of the tears that she had refused to let fall, were finally coming out. Addison stands up and he looks away, not wanting to see her walk away from him. Then she suddenly leans down and presses her lips against his. His arm snakes around her waist and he tugs her onto his lap. She moans as his hands runs over her body. Heavy footsteps near. Her eyes snap open and she quickly stands up.

"Hey." They look to see Sam enter the kitchen of the abandoned house they were squatting in. Addison forces a smile, trying to ignore the pain in her chest. "Dig up anything good," Sam asks, sitting down in the chair Addison had perviously occupied.

"No," Dean replies, clearing his throat. "Nothing good."

"Well, Bobby has. Finally."

Dean finally looks up at his younger brother. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. A way to find Lilith."

"Oh. With just uh..." Dean glances at his watch. "Thirty hours to go." He grins at Sam. "Hey, why don't we just make a TJ run, yeah? You know...some senoritas, cervezas, uh - we could...what's Spanish for 'donkey show?'"

Addison shakes her head. "Dean..."

Sam laughs. "So, if we do save you...let's never do that."

Dean forces a smile, then turns his gaze to book. "Yeah."

"Hey, Dean...Look we're cutting it close, I know. But we're gonna get this done. I don't care what it takes, Dean. You're not gonna go to hell. I'm not gonna let you." Dean glances at him. "I swear. Everything's gonna be okay."

Addison frowns as a terrified flashes over Dean's face. He blinks. "Yeah, okay." Sam nods and stands up. Sam shoots her a comforting look before walking out of the room.

She moves forward and pulls the book away. "Drink the tea, Dean," she tells him, concerned laced in her voice. "It'll help. I promise." Addison sadly smiles at him, then walks out of the room. She leans against the wall and takes a deep breath.

* * *

Addison raises an eyebrow as Bobby sets the three legged object on the map of the United States. A glass ball at the top and at the bottom of a pole was another glass ball with a point. "So, you need a name, that's the whole kit and caboodle. With the right name, right ritual, ain't nothing you can't suss out," Bobby explains.

"Like the town Lilith's in," Sam questions.

"Kid, when I get done, we'll know the street." The three of them silently watch as Bobby swings the pendulum before chanting in Latin. The pendulum swigs then stops. "New Harmony, Indiana. And we have a winner."

"Alright. Let's go."

Dean looks at his brother. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on. Let's all shut up there, Tex."

"What's the problem?"

"What's the problem? Come on, where do I begin? I mean, first of all, we don't even know if Lilith holds my deal. We're going off of Bela's intel? Now when that bitch breathed, the air come out crooked. Okay. Second, even if we could get to Lilith we have no way to gank her. And third, isn't this the same Lilith that wants your giant head on a pike, should I continue?"

"Ain't you just bringing down the room," Bobby comments.

"Yeah, well it's a gift."

"I'm sorry, so then what are we supposed to do, Dean," Sam asks.

"Just cause I gotta die doesn't mean you have to, okay. Either we go in smart or we don't go in at all."

"Okay, fine. If that's the case I have the answer."

"You do," Addison questions, not liking the uneasiness forming in her stomach.

"Yeah. A surefire way to confirm it's Lilith and a way to get us a bona fide demon killing ginsu."

Anger appears on Dean's face. "Damn it, Sam, no," he says.

"We're so passed arguing. Dean, I am summoning Ruby."

"The hell you are! We have enough problems as it is."

"Exactly. And we've got no time and no choice either."

"Come on, man, she is the Miss Universe of lying skanks, okay. She told you that she could save me, huh, lie. She seems to know everything about Lilith but forgot to mention, oh right - Lilith owns my soul!"

"Okay, fine. She's a liar. She's still got that knife."

"Dean," Bobby says.

"For all we know, she works for Lilith," Dean continues, ignoring Bobby.

"Then give me another option, Dean," Sam counters. "I mean, tell me what else."

"Sam's right," Bobby tells him.

"No! Damn it," Dean exclaims, catching them all of guard. He takes a deep breath. "Just no. We are not gonna make the same mistakes all over again. You guys wanna save me, find something else."

Addison sighs as she watches Dean walks back over to the table and sits down. Bobby grabs his jacket. "Where are you going, Bobby," Sam asks.

"I guess to find something else," Bobby answers before walking out of the house.

Sam turns to Addison and she shakes her head. "I'm staying out of this," she softly says. She shoots him an apologetic look, then walks in the direction of the kitchen. Addison lets out a shaky breath as she looks out the dusty window. The backyard of the abandoned house was mostly dead grass. She doesn't know how long she stands there until a hand touches her shoulder and she turns expecting to see Sam.

Dean stares at her, then pulls her into a hug. Addison eyes close as she wraps her arms around him. She takes a deep breath, inhaling a mixture of whiskey, gunpowder, leather, and something uniquely Dean. She could hear his heart beating. The muscles of his back were tense under her hands. His whispers in her ear and she looks up at him, stunned. His calloused hands cup her face. His thumb brushes a traitorous tear away. He presses his lips against hers.

Addison hesitantly kisses him. She knew that she should push him away, remind him that it was wrong to do this with so little time left. Instead, she presses against him, deepening the kiss. Her hand plays with the hair on the nape of his neck. And ever since their fateful trip to Vegas months before Sam had joined them, Addison swore to herself that she would never let Dean Winchester break her heart again.

Dean's hands roam over her body. She moans when he brushes her breasts. Then Addison shoves him away. They were panting. She glances at the door and he turns, but doesn't see anyone. He starts walk away, but she grabs his arm. Dean looks at her, ready for her to yell at him, to slap him. He's not expecting her to pull him into a bruising kiss, one that had months of pent up frustration behind it. And he definitely wasn't expecting Addison to shove a hand down his pants.

And since Dean was just as much about giving as receiving, he undoes her jeans and he strokes her. She buries her head in his shoulder, trying to muffle her moans. Her hands slide under his shirt as she grinds against his hand. Dean captures her lips as she comes around his fingers. He removes his hand and she stares at him. Addison kicks off her jeans and panties. He picks her up, her legs automatically wrapping around him.

Her back hits the wall as Dean thrusts into her. She lets out a loud moan and they freeze. His lips covers hers, muffling her moans. Addison moves her hips and he pulls out before slamming back into her. His face is buried in the crook of her shoulder as he comes. Neither of say anything as they stand there, too consumed in the moment.

Neither of them say anything as they dress. Dean tightly embraces her. His hand was lightly rubbing her back. Addison closes her eyes, not wanting to let the tears fall from grief of losing the one person she loved more than anything or anyone.

* * *

Addison leans against the doorway to the makeshift dining room. Weapons were spread out on the table. Sam and Dean were silently loading weapons, but their backs were towards her. She had heard the fight with Ruby earlier as she looked through the many books on the table. Sam sighs. "We're just gonna let Ruby rot down there," he asks.

Dean doesn't look up from his gun. "That's the idea."

"Dean, what if, uh, what if Ruby's right? What if I can take out Lilith?" Dean looks up at him. Addison didn't need to see his face to know that he was angry. "Quit looking at me like that."

"What? Are you gonna give her the Carrie stare and Lilith goes poof?"

"I don't know what Ruby meant. You know, maybe we should just go ask her."

"Sam, you wanted the knife. I got you the knife," Dean argues.

"Dean, just listen to me for a second. Last time Lilith snapped her fingers and put thirty demons on our ass and all we got's one little knife? I mean, like you said, we go in smart or we don't go in at all."

"Well, this ain't smart."

"We got one shot at this, Dean. Just one. So, if there's a surefire way then maybe we should just talk about it."

"Sam. We are not gonna make the same mistake all over again."

"You said that but what does it even mean?"

"Don't you see a pattern here? Dad's deal, my deal, now this? I mean every time one of us is - is up the creek the other is begging to sell their soul. That's all this is, man. Ruby's just jerking your chain down the road. You know what it's paved with and you know where it's going."

Dean walks around the table. He sees Addison leaning against the doorway, silently watching them. Her arms were crossed across her chest. "Dean," Sam says, causing him to look away from Addison. "What do you think is gonna happen? This is me, I can handle it. And if it'll save you..."

"Why even risk it?"

Sam glances at the table, then looks up. "Because you're my brother. Because you did the same thing for me."

"I know...and look how that turned out." Sam looks away from him. "All I'm saying...Sammy, all I'm saying is that you and Addison are my weak spots." Sam looks at him, stunned. Addison knew how hard it was for Dean to admit that. "You are. And we're yours."

"You don't mean that," Sam argues. His voice laced with emotion. "We're...we're family."

"I know. And those evil sons of bitches know it too. I mean, what we'll do for each other, you know, how far we'll go? They're using it against us."

"So what? We just stop looking out for each other?"

"No, we stop being martyrs, man. We - we - we stop spreading it for these demons." Dean picks up the knife he had stolen from Ruby. "We take this knife and we go after Lilith our way. The way Dad taught us to. And if we go down, then, uh, then we go down swinging." Sam just stares at him. "What do you think?"

Sam glances at the floor. "I think you totally should have been jamming  _Eye of the Tiger_  right there."

"Oh, bite me. I totally rehearsed that speech too."

Sam smiles. "So, Indiana huh?"

"Yeah, where Lilith's on shore leave."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Tell me something. The hell's a demon do for fun?"

"Well, I'm guessing it's not a trip to the spa," Addison says, pushing away from the doorway. Sam looks at her, shocked that he hadn't noticed her before. "So, what's the game plan?"

Sam glances at Dean, then back at her. "Look, Ads, maybe you should..." He trails off at the glare she sends him. Sam turns to Dean. "So, what's the game plan?"

"We pack up and hit the road," Dean answers.

"Okay." Addison turns and starts out of the room. She stops and looks back at them. "If you try to leave without me, I will hurt the Impala."

Dean watches as she leaves the room. He glances at Sam, then continues packing up the weapons. "Take care of her."

Sam nods. "Of course."

* * *

Addison ignores the glare that Dean sends her in the rearview mirror as he tries to start the Impala. She shakes her head. "Hey, I had nothing to do with that." The boys exchange worried looks. Then a bang comes from the window and they look to see Bobby.

"Where do you think you're going," Bobby asks.

Dean sees an engine piece in his hand and climbs out of the Impala with Sam and Addison. "We got the knife," he says.

"And you intend to use it without me. Do I look like a ditchable prom date to you?"

"Of course not, Bobby," Addison answers.

Dean sighs. "This is about me...and Sam and Addison. Okay? This isn't your fight."

An angry look appears on Bobby's face. "The hell it isn't," he coldly says. "Family don't end with blood, boy. Besides, you need me."

"Bobby."

"You're playing wounded. Tell me, how many hallucinations have you had so far?"

Sam looks at him, confused. Dean lets out a breath and looks at Bobby. "How'd you know?"

"Because that's what happens when you've got hellhounds on your ass. And because I'm smart." Bobby tosses the engine piece to him and starts towards his own car. "I'll follow. Don't be stopping to pee every ten minutes either."

* * *

Sam glances in the backseat to see Addison still asleep. He was always amazed at how much she could sleep through, like him and Dean singing along to Bon Jovi. A siren goes off and he looks at Dean, confused. "We getting pulled over."

Dean glance in the side mirror. "I've got a busted tail light. It's not like we're in a hurry or nothing."

Dean pulls the Impala over and the police car stops behind them. Sam grabs a fake license and registration from the glove compartment as Dean rolls down the window. A police officer walks up and shines the flashlight in the car. "Problem officer," Dean asks, not looking at the officer.

"License and registration, please," the officer replies. Dean hands over the papers. "Do you realize you have a tail light out, Mr. Hagard?"

Dean looks at him and stares for a moment. "Yes...yes, sir. Uh, you know I've been meaning to take care of that. As a matter of fact..." He shoves the door open, hitting the officer in the stomach.

"Dean," Sam shouts, climbing out of the Impala.

Dean punches the officer a few times, before pulling out the demon killing knife. Sam runs around the Impala. Dean shoves the knife in the officer's throat. They watch as the officer flashes orange and then falls to the ground. Bobby pulls up behind them and climbs out of his car. "What the hell happened," he questions, looking between the body on the ground and the boys.

"Dean just killed a demon," Sam answers, stunned. He turns to Dean. "How'd you know?"

Dean was panting and staring at the body. He looks up, worried. "I just knew. I could see it's face. It's real face under that one."

* * *

Addison yawns as she watches the guys cover the police car with branches. Sam had explained everything that had happened. "So what, now you're seeing demons," Sam asks, dropping a branch on the car.

Dean rubs his face. "I've seen all kinds of things lately but...nothing like this."

"It's not that weird," Addison comments, shoving her hands in her hoodie pockets.

The boys look at her. "How's it not weird, Ads," Dean asks.

"You've got like five hours left, Dean. So...you're in the Department of Mysteries, staring through the veil."

"A little more normal, Gryffindork."

Addison rolls her eyes. "You're about to be one of Hell's bitches, Dean. So, you can see all of Hell's other bitches."

A surprised look appears on Dean's face. "Thank you," he mocks.

"Well, actually it could come in pretty handy," Sam says.

"Oh, well, I'm glad my doomed soul is good for something."

"Damn right," Bobby replies. "Lilith's probably got demons stashed all over town. We can't let them sound the alarm. She knows we're here, we're dead before we've started."

"Well, this is a terrific plan. I'm excited to be apart of it. Can we go, please?"

Dean walks away. Bobby sighs and follows him. Sam wraps his arm around Addison's shoulder as they head back towards the Impala. "How'd you know that," he quietly asks.

"My dad," Addison softly responds. "He told me some that people go through at the end of their deals. I think he only did it to scare me into not doing anything rash." She stops and he turns to her. "No matter what happens, Sam, we will be fine." Addison shoots him a soft smile and they continue to the cars.

* * *

Addison sighs and leans against Sam as she stares at the house across the street. She had looked through the binoculars to see a family celebrating a little girl's birthday. Except that the little girl had a dead body laying on a birthday cake sitting at the table and the girl's parents were terrified. "It's the little girl. Her face is awful," Dean comments.

"Alright then, let's go. We're wasting time," Sam replies. He turns and starts to make his way downstairs, but Dean grabs his arm.

"Wait!"

"For what? For it to kill the rest of them?"

"Yeah and us too if we're not careful. Look." Dean points the mailman slowly putting mail in a mailbox. "See the real go getter mailman on the clock at nine pm?" Dean points to a different man, this one sitting on a porch smoking a pipe. "And Mr. Rogers over there."

"Demons." Bobby asks.

"Yes."

"So, we just sneak past them," Addison says, pulling her hair in a ponytail.

"Then what? Give a columbian necktie to a ten year old girl? Come on!"

Addison lets out heavy breath. "Look, Dean, we know it's horrible."

"You think?"

"This isn't just about saving you, Dean," Sam picks up. "This is about saving everybody."

Bobby nods in agreement. "She's gotta be stopped, son."

Dean glances out the window, then he sighs. "Damn it."

* * *

Their plan was distracting a few of the demons and killing them behind the houses. Dean would make a noise and the demon would follow him to where Sam was waiting. Sam would grab the demon and Addison would stab the demon with the knife. As she and Sam make their way through the woods to the next house, they see Dean get slammed into a fence. They quickly run over to him and see that it's Ruby. "I'd like my knife back, please. Or your neck snaps like a chicken bone," she coldly says.

Addison tightens her grip on the knife and walks up behind her. "Well, he doesn't exactly have it," she replies, placing the knife on Ruby's throat. Ruby backs away from Dean and Addison moves to stand by Sam.

"How the hell did you get out," Dean asks.

"What you don't know about me could fill a book," Ruby replies.

Dean's gaze suddenly widens. "Whoa."

"What?"

Dean looks away, but glances at the demon then quickly looks away. "Nothing. I just...I couldn't see you before, but you're one ugly broad."

Ruby steps towards Addison, ignoring Dean. "Give me the knife before you hurt yourself, Red," the demon demands.

"You'll get it when this over," Sam answers.

"It's already over. I gave you a way to save Dean, you shot me down. Now it's too late. He's dead. And I'm not gonna let you die too."

"Yeah, well, if you try to stop us, bitch, I'll kill you," Addison snaps.

Ruby glares at her. "Hit me with your best shot, baby."

"Please, I can kick your ass ten ways—"

"Guys, guys! Hey. Have your little cat fight later," Dean interrupts, motioning to the group of demons watching.

"Oh shit."

"So much for the element of surprise."

"Go, go! Run! Run," Sam says, pushing Addison forward. The four of them take off running towards the house that Lilith was staying in. Addison doesn't look back to see the group of demons chasing them. Sam reaches the house first and kneels down to pick the lock.

"What the hell is taking Bobby," Dean asks as he and Ruby join Sam and Addison on the porch.

"Sam, hurry," Addison says, watching the demons getting closer.

"I'm trying," Sam replies. Suddenly the sprinklers turn on. A couple of demons on the lawn screams as the holy water hits them. Sam gets the door open and enters the house with Addison and Ruby. Dean stands there a second, laughing at the demons on the other side of the lawn.

Addison rolls her eyes. "I don't think taunting them is a good idea right now, Dean." She turns and jumps at seeing the dead body in the hallway. Sam grabs the demon killing knife out of her hand.

Dean closes the door and turns to see the body. "You think Lilith knows we're here," he questions.

"Probably," Ruby answers. Sam takes the lead as they walk through the house.

A door creaks behind Dean and he turns to see a man middle aged man. He quickly grabs the man and covers his mouth as Sam, Addison, and Ruby turn to them. "We're here to help. Okay," Dean whispers. "I'm gonna move my hand and we're gonna talk nice and quiet, okay?"

The man nods and Dean removes his hand. "Sir, where is your daughter," Sam asks.

"It's not...it's not her anymore," the man replies.

"Where is she?"

"Upstairs. In her bedroom."

"Okay, okay, okay. Listen to me," Dean says. "I want you to go downstairs to the basement. Put a line of salt at the door behind you. Do you understand me?"

"Not without my wife."

"Yes, without your wife."

"No."

Dean quickly punches the man and he falls unconscious. Dean picks up and tosses him onto his shoulder. He looks at the other three, then walks out of the living room. Silently, Sam, Addison and Ruby make their way upstairs. There are two room at the tops of the stairs. Ruby takes the one on the right while Sam and Addison enter the one on the left. The room was light pink with a canopy bed in the middle. Toys were scattered along the floor.

Addison stands back as Sam makes his way towards the bed. He pulls back the curtain to reveal an middle aged woman with a blonde girl wearing a pink dress. The girl was asleep. The woman looks at Sam. "Do it," she whispers. "Do it." Sam raises the knife and the girl moves, slowly starting to wake up. "Do it. Do it!" The girl opens her eyes and screams.

Sam lunges but a force grabs his arm. He looks to see Dean. "It's not her! It's not in the girl anymore," he says. The small group makes their way downstairs. "Alright, no matter what you hear, you, your husband, and your daughter stay in the basement," Dean explains to the woman, leading them to the basement.

Addison lets out a sigh and glances at a clock. It was nearing midnight. "Well, I hate to be a 'told you so,'" Ruby comments.

Addison turns to the demon. "Then tell us where she went."

"I don't know."

"So, maybe she got past the sprinklers."

Ruby scoffs as they enter the living room. "Her pay grade, she ain't sweating the holy water."

"Okay. You win," Sam says causing Addison to look at him. "What do I have to do?"

"What do you mean," Ruby asks.

"To save Dean. What do you need me to do?"

Dean grabs his shoulder and turns Sam to look at him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Sam pulls out of Dean's grip. "Just shut up for a second. Ruby!"

"You had your chance. You can't just flip a switch. We needed time," Ruby replies.

"Well, there's gotta be something. There's gotta be some way, whatever it is, I'll do it." Dean moves to grab him but Sam pushes him away. "Don't, Dean! I'm not gonna let you go to Hell, Dean!"

"Yes, you are," Dean exclaims. Sam stares at him. Addison looks at the ground, blinking back the tears. "Yes, you are. I'm sorry. I mean, this is all my fault. I know that. But what you're doing, it's not gonna save me. It's only gonna kill you."

Sam looks away for a moment, then turns back to his brother with tears in his eyes. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Make sure Addison doesn't get herself killed since she sucks at running. Sam, remember what Dad taught you...okay?" Sam nods. "And remember what I taught you."

A ringing causes them to turn and see the grandfather clock in the corner. It was midnight. Addison lets out a sob. Sam lets his tears freely flow. Dean forces a smile, trying to hold back his own tears. He turns to Addison and pulls her into a quick kiss.  

"I'm sorry, Dean," Ruby quietly says. "I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy."

Addison watches as Dean's face becomes emotionless. He stares at the front door. "Hellhound," he says.

"Where," Addison softly questions.

Dean motions to the door. "There." Dean stands there for a moment, then runs out of the room with the others behind him. They enter a small dinning room and Addison slams the doors shut after Ruby enters the room. The hunter and demon hold the banging doors shut as Dean pours some goofer dust on the ground.

Addison lets out a relived breath and moves from the doors. Her past encounter with hellhounds was at the front of her mind. "Give me the knife," Ruby says. "Maybe I can fight it off."

Addison looks at her confused. "What?"

"Come on! That dust won't last forever."

Dean turns and looks between Sam, Addison, and Ruby. Sam takes out the knife and starts to hand it to Ruby. "Wait," Dean shouts.

"You wanna die," Ruby asks him.

"Sam, that's not Ruby. It's not Ruby!" Addison steps back. Sam is flung into the wall and is held up by invisible bonds. He drops the knife in the process. Addison groans as she too is flung into a wall, this one by the back window. She struggles against the bonds as Lilith flings Dean onto the table. "How long you been in her?"

The entire facial expression on the demon changes. "Not long," Lilith replies, examining the body she was in. "But I like it. It's all grown up and pretty."

Addison stares at the demon's eyes. Instead of the normal black, they were white. "Where's Ruby," she asks.

"She was a very bad girl, so I sent her far, far away."

"You know, I should have seen it before," Dean taunts. "But you all look alike to me."

Lilith glances at him before moving to Sam. "Hello, Sam. I've wanted to meet you for a very long time." She grabs his chin and forcefully kisses him. "Your lips are soft."

Sam tries jerking his head away, but it's no use. "Right, so you have me. Let my brother go."

"Silly goose. You wanna bargain, you have to have something that I want. You don't."

"So, this is your big plan, huh? Drag me to Hell. Kill Sam and Addison. And then what? Become queen bitch," Dean coldly questions.

"I don't have to answer to puppy chow," Lilith snaps. They silently watch as Lilith moves over to the door. She grabs the handle and opens the door. "Sick 'em, boys!"

Addison watches in horror as the invisible hellhound drags Dean off the table. He lets out a strangled scream. "Stop it," she screams. Tears were streaming down her face. "Make it stop!"

The hellhound rips into Dean's chest and legs. "Stop it," Sam shouts. But Lilith stands there with a smile on her face. Dean manages to roll onto his stomach and hellhound tears into his back. Then he's flipped onto his back. "No!"

"No," Addison softly says. Blood was pouring out the gaping wounds on him. Dean stops moving. "No."

"Yes," Lilith says. She holds out her hand and a white light shots out. Addison closes her eyes. She lets out a groan when she lands on the floor. Sam was on the floor, stunned. Lilith seemed just as shocked. Addison slowly starts to crawl over to Dean as Sam stands up. He takes a step towards the demon. Lilith holds her hand out. "Back." He takes another step. "I said back."

Sam picks up the knife off the floor. "I don't think so," he angrily says. He raises the knife, ready to kill the demon. Suddenly, black smoke flies out of Ruby's body and it crumples to the floor.

Addison tentatively places a hand on Dean's chest. Sam kneels down next to her. They both were openly crying. She buries her face in Sam's chest and he wraps his arms around her.


End file.
